


Baby Steps

by Titch360



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-01-10 21:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12307803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: You have to start somewhere.





	1. Chapter 1

Baby Steps

 

Alfred made his way quickly through the last couple of tasks on today's list of duties with a smile on his face and a tune running through his head.  Today's list of chores had gone smoother than they had any right to, and as he approached the end of his list, Alfred was looking forward to allowing himself a few extra hours of rest.  He wasn't needed for any of tonight's planned activities, and he was looking forward to taking some time for himself.

The last task on today's list was to check on Damian and make sure the teen was not procrastinating in his preparations for tonight's event.  Somehow, Alfred didn't think that would be a problem.

Two weeks ago, Bruce had received an invitation to a gallery opening charity sneak preview.  Bruce had only been mildly interested in attending the event, but the charity was one he had supported over the years, and he generally approved of their services.  That, and he had also dated the gallery owner a few times over the years, and wasn't opposed to trying again, assuming the woman wasn't married yet.

Seeing an opportunity to keep a promise he had made to himself to spend more time with his son, Bruce had asked if Damian would like to be his plus one for the evening.  To say that Damian was excited by the prospect would be an understatement.  Bruce didn't often have the ability to make his son smile, but that day, he did.  The smile had grown larger when Damian realized that, for once, he wasn't the second fiddle or the last resort.  Bruce hadn't asked anyone else if they wanted to go first, before asking Damian.  It made Damian feel special that Bruce thought of him first for tonight's event.

Alfred approached the, surprisingly, open bedroom door of Bruce's fourth son, to remind him of the upcoming event, and the short time before departure, when he heard the teen's voice drift out of the room.  Damian was on the phone, and Alfred could hear everything, with the phone set to speaker.

"You know, thanks a lot for calling today, Robin.  I was feeling kind of down, but you know just how to pick me up."

The teen girl's voice was slightly muffled, but still audible, "That's what I'm here for.  Besides, you pick me up all the time.  I thought I should return the favor.  You sounded a little off when we talked last night, I just wanted to check on you."

Alfred could hear the smile in Damian's voice, "I've just been feeling a little sorry for myself lately.  I miss you, and I've been lonely at home lately.  Apparently, it's audit season for everyone else, and they've all been working late."

"You still have Mr. Pennyworth," Robin said.

Damian sighed, "I bother Alfred too much as it is.  He shouldn't have to entertain me, just because I missed the application deadline to get into college this fall.  Stupid war."

 _Not true, my boy,_ Alfred thought, _I delight in your company.  I shall have to find a way to convince you of that tomorrow._

"Well, I miss you, too, Damian.  I wish I could come out and see you this weekend."

Damian was trying to smile, "I wish you could, too, but at least we've been promised a visit for Thanksgiving."

A voice could be heard mumbling in the background of Robin's side of the call.  The girl's sigh could be felt by the stalking butler in the hallway.  "I have to go, but I'll call you again tomorrow.  I love you."

"I love you, too.  Oh, wait.  Before you go, I just have to tell you that you really looked beautiful today."

"Aww, Damian, thanks...Wait a minute.  You didn't see me today."

"I didn't have to," Damian replied.

"Playing the law of averages," Robin asked coyly.

"Nope, just stating a known fact.  The whole world knows I have a beautiful girlfriend.  I just love telling you that."

Alfred had to bite his tongue to keep his presence hidden.  _If there was any doubt at all that he is Master Bruce's son, that should erase it all._

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, lover," the girl whispered.

"Good night, beautiful," the boy replied.

Alfred was having a hard time killing the smile that the overheard conversation brought to his face.  He waited in the hall for a minute, both to give him time to compose himself and to sell the illusion that he hadn't overheard the preceding conversation.

Alfred entered the teen's bedroom to find Damian sitting on the edge of the bed, almost ready to leave for the night's charity event.  "Master Damian, I believe you are just a step or two away from being ready for the night."

Damian had donned the upper half of his tuxedo, and Alfred assumed that he had received his phone call before he could put his pants on, until Damian spoke up.  "Yeah.  We're going to have a problem with that."  Damian picked up the matching tuxedo pants and held them up.  "You made sure my tuxedo was cleaned and pressed for tonight, but we didn't check to make sure that it still fit."

Alfred's eyes widened at the oversight, "Can I assume that you are wearing the part that still fits?"

Damian nodded, "The jacket is still okay, too, but there is no way I can wear these pants tonight, or ever again, for that matter."

Alfred sighed, "Well, we are short on time and options.  Put them on; let's see how far off they are."

Damian looked doubtful, but attempted to pull the garment on.  The legs stopped well short of his ankles, and the waist looked far too tight to even attempt to button.  Alfred had him try anyway, "Can you button them?"

Damian took a deep breath, trying to suck in the gut that he didn't have.  Alfred was ready to dodge if the button flew off, but walked closer to the teen and said, "Those aren't too bad."

Damian's eyes widened, whether from shock or the fact that the teen couldn't exhale safely was anyone's guess.  "Not too bad?  Alfred, I can't breathe!"

"What about your other pants," Alfred asked with a smile as Damian gratefully unbuttoned and pulled the pants off again.

"They still fit, but they don't match the jacket."

Alfred looked at the four other pairs of pants laid out on Damian's bed.  He held the jacket up to the other pants and observed, "No, you are quite right.  Those just won't do.  There is only one option at this point, young sir.  Come with me."

Alfred led the half-dressed Damian across the hall and into Tim's room.  Damian waited while Alfred pulled out Tim's tuxedo and handed Damian the pants.  "These might be a little big for you, but they may be closer to fitting you than you might think.  As Master Timothy is at the Watchtower on a monitoring shift, I think I can guarantee he will not miss them."

Damian pulled the pants on, "They're a little loose, and a little long, but you're right, they fit better than I thought they would."

"I believe your belt will take care of the waist."

Damian nodded and headed back to his own room, and found that his belt solved that problem.  Alfred spoke up, appraising the boy, "If you keep your jacket on, the waist shouldn't be too noticeable.  If anyone asks, at least you have an interesting conversation starter.  Put your shoes on, and let's see what we can do about the length."

Alfred smiled at his reflection in the polished tops of Damian's dress shoes.  "Not wearing your sneakers tonight, Master Damian?"

Alfred was measuring just how much the legs had to be adjusted as Damian said, "Not with a tuxedo, Alfred.  Maybe with a regular suit, but not tonight.  I'm not ten anymore."

Alfred took a deep breath and said quietly, "No, Master Damian, you most certainly are not ten anymore."

Damian looked down in confusion as Alfred began his impromptu alterations.  "Scotch tape, Alfred?"

The butler glanced up, "It should hold for the evening, and will not leave any permanent marks on your brother's pants.  I assure you, it won't be visible."

Alfred stood again and turned Damian towards the mirror.  Helping the teen on with his jacket, Alfred said, "There, young sir.  All set for a night on the town.  If I may say, you do make for a spitting image of your father, when he was your age.  Why don't you run along and find him.  He was in the cave, the last time I saw him."

Damian stared at himself in the mirror for a second, absorbing what Alfred had said.  He turned and stared up into the butler's eyes, "Thank you, Alfred."

Alfred began to reply when Damian gave him a quick hug and left the room, leaving Alfred speechless.  _And, like your father, you never cease to amaze me._

Damian entered the cave and found his father at the computer, typing into a report.

"Hi, Dad.  Are you ready to go?"

A quick smile came to Bruce's face.  _He's excited for tonight.  Good._   "Almost, Pal.  Just need to put the finishing touches on this."

Damian stopped next to Bruce, and displayed just how excited he actually was.  "Can you hurry up?  I don't want to miss this.  I've been looking forward to this for days."

Bruce finally turned from the computer, to find his son dressed in a tuxedo to match his own, but something looked off.  Bruce looked at Damian critically, "Are you losing weight, Damian?"

Damian grimaced, "No, it's actually the opposite."

Bruce stood and walked around his son, "I don't see how that's possible.  You are practically swimming in your pants.  Why did Alfred get you a tuxedo that is so baggy?"

"He didn't," Damian sighed.

"Then how do you explain your pants?"

Damian blushed, embarrassed, "They are Tim's.  I couldn't fit into mine; they were too small.  So you see, I'm actually gaining weight, and growing, again.  I guess I'll be getting a new tuxedo for my birthday."

Bruce gave a soft smile, "It's about time you hit your next growth spurt.  I bet you'll just about catch up to Tim with this one."

Damian grumbled, "I'll just be happy if my legs grow at the same rate, this time."

After Damian's knee replacement, they found that his right leg grew at a slower pace than his left.  It had eventually caught up, but for a while it was unknown if Damian was going to have to undergo a surgery to correct the issue.  Now that he was growing again, father and son were starting to have the same concern again.

The sound of the Zeta Tube powering up caught both Wayne's attention.  They turned to look at the futuristic equipment as the computer intoned, "Recognize Superman, A-01.  Recognize Superboy, F-03."

Damian flung his head back with a frustrated grunt.  "No, no, no, no, no.  Not tonight."

Bruce looked at his son quizzically, motioning for Clark and Jon to hang back for a minute.  "What's wrong?"

"Why did he have to come tonight, of all nights," Damian asked, with exasperation in his voice.

Bruce was still confused, "Damian?"

Damian looked at his father, "Superman only comes to give you League missions.  Can't we get one night off?  Whatever it is, you're just going to have to say no.  We already have plans tonight."

"You don't even know why they're here, son," Bruce said with a smile.

Damian spoke softly, "It doesn't matter.  Tonight is very special to me.  I don't want anything to ruin it."

"What's so special about tonight?  It's just a charity event."

Damian took a deep breath, remembering that the cave had excellent acoustics.  "I've been looking forward to this for weeks.  Even before I knew we were invited to the charity sneak preview, I wanted to check out this gallery."

"Why," Bruce asked again.

Damian shrugged, "Why did you spend two hundred dollars on supplies for me at the art supply store yesterday?  It's a hobby."

Bruce nodded slowly, waving Clark over, "I know you wanted to go, but I thought you might want to go with your friend."

Damian looked confused, "My friend?"

"Jon.  I think he qualifies as a friend."

Damian shrugged again, "I guess so, but how did you come to that conclusion?  I haven't seen him since the end of the war."

"You talk to him, though," Bruce said, "You've spoken to him several times on the phone."

"He calls _me_ ," Damian said, "along with the other kids."

Bruce nodded, "But, you actually _talk_ to him. You spend far more time talking to him than you do any of the other kids.  You can't even argue that one, either.  I get your phone bill, and I see all of your calls listed."

Damian sighed, "Okay.  I guess, if you had to describe us in one way or another, your description would be adequate."

Clark and Jon walked up to Bruce and Damian, father and son each in matching tuxedos.  Clark gave a large smile and asked, "We all ready to go?"

"Just about," Bruce replied, "Once we explain what's going to happen tonight."

"I knew it," Damian muttered bitterly.

Clark chose to ignore the utterance.  "Okay, since you took so long in making your decision on leading the training group, the League has had some extra time to come up with our lesson plan.  We ran into a couple problems in planning, though.  First, where to begin.  All of the kids are coming in at different levels.  Second, what can we reasonably expect you to teach the kids?  So, we decided to come up with a test to answer those questions.  Damian, you have far more experience than any of the kids, and some of the regular Leaguers, for that matter.  We don't want to frustrate you by setting, what you might consider to be, too-simple tasks.  At the same time, we want you to stick to the lesson plan.  To be able to judge your ability in doing that, tonight you will be working with me, to complete a series of tasks."

Damian stared up at Clark, his eyes wide and jaw hanging slightly, "What?  Can't I work with Father on that?"

Clark didn't seem to catch the change in Damian's tone, "Bruce already knows your capabilities and limitations.  Tonight is about finding out how well you can follow someone else's orders."

Bruce spoke up, "Jon, this is nothing bad against you, but mostly due to your age, as the youngest of the group, the League feels that you are the least experienced member of the new group.  Tonight, I will be giving you a series of tasks, to determine your level, and where we should start the training group.  Like with Damian and myself, your father already knows what you are capable of.  This is more of a second opinion, to know where to set the bar."

Jon looked excited, "We get to do this at the gallery?"

Bruce nodded, "Yes, but no one can find out what is going on, okay?"

Jon's smile grew, "Oh boy, we get to be like secret agents."

Clark looked back and forth between the boys.  Jon was, by far, the more excited of the two.  "If there's nothing else, we should probably get going."

While it wasn't the top thing on his mind, Damian asked Clark, "Wait, how are you two getting into the gallery?  Father said his invitation was for two."

Clark smiled and said, "Press pass.  Sometimes, being a reporter has its perks."

Clark led Jon to the stairs, while Damian hung back to have a quick word with Bruce.  "Father, is there any way we can do this on another night?"

Bruce sighed lightly, "Tell me what's going on, Damian."

Damian hesitated for a second before finally saying, "I really wanted tonight to be just the two of us.  When you got the invitation for tonight, you didn't go looking for a date, you didn't ask any of the others, and you didn't just throw it away and pretend it didn't exist.  You asked _me_ if I wanted to go with you.  It made me feel really special, that you remembered that this is something I'm interested in, and that you wanted to spend a special time with me.  Now, not only are we going to miss most of the gallery, but I won't be with you at all."

Bruce hadn't expected Damian to lay it out so bluntly, which only meant that Damian was serious about what he said.  Bruce took a deep breath as he pulled his son into a gentle hug.  Damian laid his head on Bruce's chest as the man said, "I wish you told me this meant so much to you earlier."

"I would have," Damian said softly, "but once you said you wanted to take me tonight, I didn't think I had to."

Bruce winced, "I am sorry, but will you believe me when I tell you that I'll make it up to you?"

Damian remained silent, which Bruce expected, "Let's just get through tonight, and we can work on the future.  And, be nice to Jon.  He looks up to you, you know."

"People keep telling me that," Damian said, "I don't know why he does, or would even want to.  And, I'm always nice to Jon...most of the time.  As you pointed out, he is my friend."

The Wayne's caught up to the Kent's on the house side of the secret passage.  Jon's eyes were popping out of his head, and his jaw was hanging, as he took in the manor.  The boy said quietly, but not too quietly, to Damian, "I didn't know you _lived_ in the gallery."

An unbidden smile crossed Damian's face at Jon's remark, "We don't live in the gallery.  This is just a little place we like to call home."

They reached the entrance foyer, Jon again amazed at the size of the place, "Little place?  How many zip codes does this house cover?"

Bruce was trying not to laugh as he said, "Two, actually.  But that is just because the house was built near a code line."

Damian turned to Bruce with an inquisitive look on his face, "I didn't know that."

Bruce smiled at his son, "Yeah.  Your music room, along with the far north sections of the house are actually in a different postal code than the rest of the house.  The manor was built before the zip code system was invented.  The grounds actually cover parts of three different counties, because of how the lines were drawn."

Jon looked like his brain was on overload, "Wait.  Manor?  Grounds?  Seriously, I'm confused."

Damian looked up at Bruce, then at Clark, then back to Jon.  "I figured your father would have done this already, but perhaps it is time we were properly introduced.  Jonathan Kent, my full name is Damian Wayne, and this is my father, Bruce."

Jon reached out to shake Bruce's offered hand when his mind finally stalled.  "Bruce?  Bruce _Wayne_?  You're Bruce Wayne's _son_?  Batman is _Bruce_ _Wayne_?"

Bruce looked up at Clark, "You didn't go over all of this before, Clark?"

The Superman smiled sheepishly, "I know how you feel about having your identities revealed."

Bruce gave a small smile, "If I'm going to be working with him in a civilian setting, I think he needs to know."

Clark's answer was forestalled as Alfred opened the front door.  "Ah, everyone is assembled, I see.  Your car is ready, Master Bruce."

Alfred smiled down at the tuxedo-clad boys as Bruce said, "Thanks, Alfred."

Damian pulled the still-gawking youth forward, shaking him out of his own head.  "Jonathan Kent, this is Alfred Pennyworth, our butler.  Alfred, Jon Kent."

Bruce sent an approving wink and nod to his son.  Alfred seemed appreciative of the introduction as well, as he inclined his head at the new arrival.  "Good evening, Master Jonathan.  It is a pleasure to finally meet you.  I have heard much about you."

Jon numbly shook Alfred's hand, completely overwhelmed, "You...you have?"

"Of course.  It is not often that Master Damian makes a friend.  You must be quite the extraordinary gentleman, with how you have been spoken of in this house."

Bruce was a bit confused as to what Alfred was talking about, but he also knew that Alfred and Damian had started having long, in-depth, private conversations during the day, while the rest of the family was at work.  Anything could have been discussed while Bruce was away.

Both boys blushed at Alfred's words as they walked to the car.  Jon was overheard asking, "You guys have a butler?"

Damian shrugged, "He's more a member of the family at this point."

"Is he the one who taught you how to cook," Jon hissed.

Damian gave a warm smile, "Partly."

Jon looked back at the house from the driveway, his jaw on the ground at the sheer size of Stately Wayne Manor.  "Whoa!  You guys live _here?_   This place is huge!"

Damian took a look at the house as Clark helped Jon into the back seat, "Tt, I guess so."

Bruce drove the quartet down the gravel driveway with Jon craning his neck to keep looking at the massive abode.  Once the house was finally out of sight and the car was heading for the highway, Jon asked, "How do you not get lost in a place like that?"

"Simple," Damian said, "Only go to the rooms you're familiar with."

Jon looked over, "How many of them are _you_ familiar with?"

Damian blushed a little, remembering back to when he had this same conversation with his girlfriend.  "Not as many as you might think.  There are whole wings of the house that haven't seen a person in decades."

Bruce and Clark shared a glance, both finally believing that these two were becoming friends.

Jon said, "Wow.  How big is the house?"

Damian looked over at the slightly taller youth, "Official report is one hundred sixty-eight rooms.  Personally, I think there are more than that."

"That would take forever to see them all," Jon said, with awe in his voice, "You could see all of our house in, like, five minutes."

Damian sounded a bit nervous to Bruce's ear as he looked down at his lap and said, "Perhaps you would like to come back this weekend and see a few of the rooms?"

 _Did Damian just invite Jon over?  To do what?  Play?  I thought he maintained that he didn't do that?_   Bruce tried to meet his son's eyes in the rearview mirror, "Damian?"

Damian looked forward and asked, "Is that acceptable, Father?"

Bruce smiled, "It's fine with me.  Clark, is that okay with you?"

Clark matched Bruce's smile, "I can't see that hurting anything."

Jon stared at Damian with wide eyes and said softly, "You really want me to come over?"

Damian looked at the youth and took a deep breath, "Yes, Jon.  I see no reason why not."

"I thought you said you didn't have friends, or didn't do normal kid things?"

Even Damian, who had only a rudimentary understanding of joking and vocal inflections, could tell that Jon was messing with him.  "Just because I will become your instructor soon, doesn't mean I have nothing of my own to learn.  Don't you want a teacher who is able to relate to his students?"

Jon met Damian's gaze and said, "No, not really."  Damian's eyes widened, but Jon continued before Damian could say anything, "I _do_ want another friend, though.  Dad, can I?"

Clark smiled, "You'll have to finish your homework before you come over."

Jon gave a bright smile, "Deal."

Bruce had a smile on his face when he asked, "Do you know what you're doing, Damian?"

Damian shook his head slowly, "Not a clue, Father.  Dick has been trying to teach me how to be a kid for years.  Maybe something finally stuck?  Maybe it takes a kid to teach someone how to be a kid?"

"Any special reason you chose Saturday, instead of tomorrow?  Whenever Dick had friends over, he would pout until I agreed to let them come over the second school was out."

"Jon is in school, he will have homework to finish."

Bruce could tell that Damian was not telling the truth in his excuse.  He could also tell that Damian didn't want to talk about the real reason right now.  Bruce let it go, but only because they were pulling up outside of the gallery.

"Alright, there are a couple cameramen out front.  Jon, just stick by your dad and everything should be okay."

They left the car with a slightly apprehensive look on Jon's face.  Bruce and Damian adopted matching, carefully neutral, slightly pleased looks, which seemed to appease the paparazzi.

"Bruce!  Bruce!  Over here!  Look over here!  Bruce, Damian, over here!"

Damian hid his grimace well at the calls of the photographers.  Bruce whispered to his son, "Well, it was bound to happen eventually.  The paparazzi know who you are.  Welcome to hell."

That put a smile on Damian's lips as a man shoved a video camera in his face.  "Damian, GMZ News.  Is Gotham's Most Eligible Teen going to have more luck with the ladies than your adoptive brothers have?"

Damian was thrown off by the question, but tried to hide it.  "I don't see how that is any of your business."

The pseudo-reporter continued to push, "Come on, Damian.  Give us something.  Surely you know what our watchers want to know."

 _Okay, you want to push me, let's see how you handle this._   Damian shook his head, adopting a slightly confused look, "Actually, no.  I _don't_ know what your watchers want.  I've never seen your show before.  Never even heard of it, until you shouted the name of it at me."

The fake newsman looked shocked, "Really?"

Damian shrugged, "Sorry.  I look for _real_ news stories and information when I watch television."

Damian could tell that the reporter understood the dig.  "Our viewers are interested to know if any of the Wayne men are ever going to find love."

Damian cocked his head, "Why?  I'm not interested in your viewer's love lives.  Why should they be interested in mine?"

The reporter was getting flustered by the carefully planned responses.  "Come on, Damian.  How about just a little private tidbit for your fans across the city?  You getting freaky in the Manor at those fancy parties?"

Damian shook his head sadly, "First of all, they are only fans of my last name, not of me.  I haven't done anything worthy of garnering fans.  Second, do you realize you are asking about the sex life of a thirteen year old?  Isn't that some form of pedophilia?"

Damian had said the magic word to get the man to back off and signal frantically to his cameraman to turn off the camera and erase the interview.  Once Damian was sure the camera was off, he called out to the man, "By the way, I do have a girlfriend."

The reporter was trying to get the camera back recording again, but it was too late.  Bruce and Damian had already entered the gallery, and security was not allowing any cameras into tonight's event.

Once inside the gallery, Bruce pulled Damian aside.  Damian looked up and found pride being beamed back at him as Bruce pulled Damian into a tight hug.

"That was amazing, son.  You handled that perfectly."

"Thanks, Dad."

Bruce leaned back a bit, "One thing, though.  Dick watches GMZ all the time.  How have you never seen it?"

Damian smirked, "They don't need to know that.  I just didn't want to give them anything they could use.  They're never going to air a clip of their reporter being accused of being a pedophile, and they are definitely not going to use a clip that makes it sound like the most prominent family in the city doesn't waste time with their program.  It would lower their ratings.  What I want to know is where did that 'Gotham's Most Eligible Teen' shit come from?"

Bruce sighed, "You're coming of age, Damian.  I held the unofficial title of 'Gotham's Most Eligible Bachelor' for many years.  They are probably just expanding on that.  The society set is going to start hounding us about getting you together with one of their daughters or granddaughters soon."

Damian looked unsettled at the news.  Bruce patted his shoulder and said, "Don't worry about it; it happens.  Hell, it still happens to me, every now and then."

"But, I already have a girlfriend, who I am very happy with," Damian said.

Bruce nodded, "And she will be noticeably absent during just about all of the social season.  Knowing you have dated in the past, and not seeing Robin at parties, will cause some of the more insistent ones to push that much harder."

Damian sighed, shaking his head, "If this is Dick's doing, I'm going to punch him in the mouth."

Bruce snorted a laugh, "If this is his doing, I might just let you."

The Wayne's and Kent's walked into the main gallery.  Bruce beckoned Jon away, and only then did Damian remember that he was being tested tonight.

He sidled up next to Clark and asked, "Okay, Kent, what am I supposed to do?"

Damian followed Clark as he headed over to a table with refreshments.  "Just get your bearings first.  I wouldn't mind a snack before we get started."

Damian sighed, wanting to get the night over with, but he couldn't deny that he was getting a bit hungry, too.  He chewed on an appetizer, his eyes darting around the room.  Damian ached to take a closer look at the artworks, but he forced himself to stay on mission.

As the minutes passed with no instruction, Damian began to get frustrated.  Finally, he grabbed Clark's arm and hissed, "What are we really doing here, Kent?"

Clark looked confused, "I'm not sure I follow you, Damian."

Damian rolled his eyes, "Then let's see if you can follow me around the room.  My one o'clock, ten meters, Oliver Queen.  My four o'clock, fifteen meters, Hal Jordan.  My eight o'clock, twenty meters, Wally West, with a terrible dye job.  My nine o'clock, twenty-five meters, Diana Prince.  Ten o'clock, thirty meters, Father.  My six o'clock, roving to stay at my six o'clock, Dick.  I haven't spotted him yet, but I'm sure J'onn J'onzz is around here, somewhere."

No sooner did Damian stop talking did a tall man with short brown hair bump into the teen, with a muttered, "Excuse me."

Damian rolled his eyes and said, "Found him.  Do you want to tell me what is _really_ going on now?"

Clark gave a bemused look to the raven-haired youth.  He reached up and looked to be scratching his ear, but Damian knew better.  Clark spoke, "Bruce...No, they've been spotted...Yes, all of them...Yes, even Wally's dye job."  Clark rolled his eyes at Bruce's comment, "Yes, I _know_ you won the bet...Right, plan B...Right...Okay."

Damian was scowling at the alien as he overheard half of the conversation.  Clark sighed and said, "You're right.  We had a couple different plans for tonight, depending on how observant you really were tonight, and if you chose to share those observations."

Damian interrupted, "What was the bet?"

"How long it would take you to notice the rest of the League."

Damian looked intrigued, "What was the over/under?"

"Five minutes," Clark said, with a look that bordered on sheepish.

Damian's look changed to one of shock, "Is that why you wanted to stop for snacks?  To waste time and win a bet?"

Clark smiled, "I don't win many with your dad.  I thought I had a shot at this one."

Damian sighed heavily, "Can we just get this over with?  I think you understand that this is not exactly what I wanted to be doing tonight.  If we get done early enough, maybe we can salvage the evening."

Clark stared at Damian, wondering what he was missing.  Bruce and Damian had said several things tonight that stuck in Clark's mind.

He shook his head, "Okay, let's get started.  It's obvious that you missed something tonight.  That was J'onn who bumped into you, but when he did, he swiped your phone."

Damian smirked, until he patted his pocket and discovered that his phone really was missing.  He looked up at Clark with wide eyes as Clark continued, "You'll get it back, but you'll have to jump through our hoops first.  Remember, this is all to see how well you follow directions.  Direction number one is that, after this conversation, you are to do your best to not be seen by any of the League members until you finish your list of tasks, including me."

Damian looked confused, "How are you going to give me the tasks if I don't see you?"

"Check your pocket again."

Damian stuck his hand in the pocket, pulled out a small earpiece, and looked at it strangely.  "An earwig?"

"That one can send and receive, so you don't have to worry about a separate microphone.  Do you need help getting it in?"

Damian looked annoyed as he fit the device in his left ear.  "This isn't the first time I've used one of these."

Clark nodded, "I'll give you your tasks over that, and you can tell me when you're ready for the next one."

Damian activated the earpiece, turned around, and said softly, "Comm check."

Clark's voice came through his ear, "Loud and clear.  Thanks for checking."

Damian turned back to Clark, who asked, "Any other questions?"

Damian shook his head, so Clark said, "Good luck.  Oh, by the way, since we had to change to Plan B, we have changed your tasks.  You need to complete all of them to get your phone back.  I should warn you that Bruce is giving Jon the same tasks I'm giving you.  They don't need to be done twice.  I don't know what order Bruce is going in, but to complete this test, you need to finish first."

Damian was surprised by the news, "So, you mean..."

Clark smiled, "Jon is working against you, and he has your father in his ear, guiding him each step of the way.  He gets told exactly how to do what he needs to do, while you only get told what to do."

Damian swallowed nervously and said, "Where do I start?"

Clark nodded at the wall and said, "There is a Chagall over there that's hung crooked.  Without getting caught, straighten it."

Damian walked away at a society party pace, not looking to make waves around the gathering.  _It's really crowded in here tonight.  If they were able to get the League members in here, then the invite list must not have been as exclusive as I thought it would be.  In a way, I'm glad Father planned this for tonight.  I don't think I would be able to enjoy the gallery with this many people here._

Damian walked up to the painting in question and stared at it for a minute, wondering what Clark had been talking about.  "Kent, the Chagall is not crooked.  Could Jon have gotten to this task already?"

The alien's voice sounded in his ear, "Yes, it is.  I'm looking at it right now."

"So am I, and it's _not_ crooked."

Clark sounded confused, "I don't see you."

Damian snorted, "Wasn't that the whole idea?"

"Where are you?"

"In front of the Chagall.  It wasn't easy, either.  I had to avoid Father."

Clark was even more confused, "The Chagall is nowhere near Bruce.  It's on the West wall."

Damian shook his head, "No, it's on the North wall."

Damian turned to look at the West wall.  He saw the crooked painting easily from across the room and made his way over stealthily.

Once he was in sight of the painting, Damian sighed roughly and said, "That's a Matisse, Kent."  Damian waited until no one was looking and gently righted the artwork.  "They have similar styles, but you need to give me better instructions, or at least more precise instructions, if I'm going to stand a chance tonight."

A thump to his left caught Damian's attention.  An elderly woman had bumped into a statue, and was apologizing, as if she had run into a person.  Damian's eyes widened as the statue rocked and looked close to tipping.  The teen rushed over and grabbed the marble figure, steadying it before it could fall over.  He was about to tell the woman to watch where she was going when he saw her white cane and glasses.

The old woman was still talking to the statue, "I apologized.  The least you can do is acknowledge me."

Damian smiled, but tried not to laugh, as he said, "Excuse me, ma'am?  He's not responding because you bumped into a statue."

The woman blushed, "Oh, how clumsy of me.  Um, did I knock it over?"

Damian took a step closer to the woman and spoke in a conspiratorial tone.  "No, ma'am.  I made sure of that."

The woman smiled, "Oh, you're too kind, young man.  Can I ask you for a favor, though?  I seem to have gotten turned around.  I'm not completely blind, but I am lost.  Can you help me find the ladies' room?"

Damian hesitated for an instant, but then said, "Of course, ma'am.  If you want to take my arm, I can get you there."

The woman took hold of Damian's elbow and allowed herself to be led across the room.  "By the way, dear, my name is Alvia Hopkins.  Thank you so much for doing this."

"It's not a problem, Ms. Hopkins.  I'm Damian Wayne."

Damian could tell that the elderly woman knew who he was.  _Is Father right?  Am I going to have to fight off the society crowd now?  I miss being anonymous._

"Well, Damian, I'll just have to introduce you to my granddaughter, Karen.  She goes to the Warrington School, too."

 _Father told me this would happen._   "I don't go there anymore, Ms. Hopkins.  I was able to graduate early, at the end of the last school year."

Before the woman could say anything else, another voice sounded from near the restroom door.  "Grandma!  What are you doing?"

"I got a little lost, dear," Alvia's smile seemed to suggest otherwise, "This nice young man helped me.  Excuse me."

Alvia headed for the restroom as the much younger girl said, "Sorry about this.  My grandmother is always doing these things.  I'm Karen."

"Damian," he replied with a smile.

"Wayne, dear," Alvia said, before disappearing into the ladies room, "Damian Wayne."

Karen blushed a bit and asked, "What sort of tactic did she use to get you to talk to me?"

"She almost knocked over a statue, and asked for help finding the restroom."

Karen rolled her eyes, "Sorry.  She keeps saying that she is determined to find me a husband before she dies.  I keep telling her that I'm too young for that, but she keeps pulling these stunts to introduce me to people.  You aren't the first one to be ensnared in her traps."

Damian's smile brightened, "Sounds like she's just looking out for you."

 _He's being really nice about all this.  I wonder if I should pursue this.  "_ She is, but I think you should know what you're getting into, before anything happens."

 _What exactly does she think is going to happen?  Oh, I wonder if I was flirting just now.  I hope I didn't give her the wrong impression.  She is fairly attractive, but...no.  I can't do something like that to Robin.  I love her too much to mess it up.  I wish I could tell if I was flirting before I did it.  My training runs too deep, sometimes._   "No family is perfect.  I'm sure we both have embarrassing stories for days."

Karen gave a demure smile, "How about you give me your phone number, and we can meet up this weekend to...discuss family."

 _Yep, I was flirting.  Damn.  Father would be proud.  Robin would break my face._   "I don't think my girlfriend would like that, and I'm serious enough about her to not press my luck."

Karen seemed to deflate at that news.  "Oh.  Have you been dating long?"

Damian nodded with a wistful smile, "It'll be two years in March."

Karen looked at Damian strangely, "How have you managed to keep that a secret from the paparazzi?"

Damian gave an easy smile, "Easy.  She doesn't live in Gotham City."

Karen looked down and nodded, "Well, thanks for not being a jerk when I tried to flirt with you."

"Hey, I wouldn't do that.  You seem like a nice person, Karen, and even if we aren't going to come out of this with a date, I'm still glad I got to meet you."

Karen gave Damian a smile as she pulled out a gum wrapped from her purse and wrote down her name and phone number.  Handing it to him, she said, "I would never want to try to break up your relationship, and I'm not going to wait around, pining for you, but if circumstances change, give me a call."

Damian stared at the number as Karen walked away.  He thought to himself, _that wasn't so bad.  I wish I could talk to Father or Dick about what just happened, though.  This sucks, having to purposely avoid them tonight._

Thinking about his last ten minutes, it was Damian's turn to be distracted and not pay attention to where he was going.  Only the pain in his toe caused him to look around and realize he had just kicked a wheelchair.

Looking down, a smile crossed Damian's face.  "Barbara.  It's good to see you."

Barbara Gordon was a bit thrown off by Damian's manner.  She hadn't actually seen Damian in over a year, and had only talked to him briefly once in that time, during the war.  _Since when does he call people by their first names?_   "Damian, is that you?  You seem...different."

Damian crouched down to speak more quietly, and so Barbara didn't have to look up at him.  "I guess I am different.  I'm trying to relax more.  I find that people relate to me better this way, and...I'm happier.  It seems that the war changed me."

Barbara reached out and hugged Damian, and was surprised when he returned the hug.  "Changed for the better, I'd say.  You look happier.  I'm glad for you.  If you're here, does that mean that everyone is here?"

Damian looked around, "In more ways than one.  The League is here tonight."

Barbara looked worried, "Problem?"

Damian shook his head, "No.  I'm being tested.  They want me to lead a training group for the kids, and they want to see how well I follow their directions."

"When will the testing start?  This might be interesting to watch."  Barbara smiled up at the teen.

Damian's eyes widened as he remembered, "Um, about fifteen minutes ago.  I should probably get back to that."

Barbara laughed, "You stopped a League event to say hi to me?  I'm not sure Bruce will like that."

"It's also a society event.  We're wearing many hats tonight."

Barbara patted Damian's hand, "If you see Dick, tell him I'm here."

Damian smiled, "Tell him yourself when he gets here.  He's been assigned to tail me for the test; he should be here in just a minute.  Oh, I'm not supposed to know that he's tailing me, so don't tell him."

Barbara winked at the teen, "Your secret is safe with me."

Damian took a breath, then asked something that had been on his mind for a while now, "Are you and Dick getting back together?"

Barbara was surprised by the question, "Would you have a problem with that?"

Damian shook his head, "No.  You make him happy.  I like seeing him happy."

"Does everyone feel this way around the Manor?  We didn't have the best ending last time, and I know I ruffled some feathers."

Damian could hear the nerves in her voice, "Yes.  Everyone at home likes seeing Dick happy."

Barbara shook her head, "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Dick loves you.  That is more than enough to smooth some ruffled feathers."

"How do you feel about it," Barbara asked quietly.

Damian regarded Barbara a bit differently after that question.  If Damian didn't know better, he would have sworn that she was asking for his blessing.  Damian shrugged, "I got to know my sister-in-law pretty well a couple months ago.  I liked it.  I wouldn't mind another one.  I think you would fit the bill nicely."

Barbara's jaw dropped, "Sister-in-law?  How did I not find out about that?  Was it Jason or Tim that got married?"

Damian smiled warmly, "No, you misunderstand.  You are on Dick's Facebook, so I'm sure you are well aware of how serious I am about my girlfriend.  Dick posts more about our relationship than she does.  I got to visit Robin a couple months back, and spent some time getting to know her sister.  We had a good time, the three of us.  I wouldn't be averse to having that kind of relationship with someone who doesn't live in Alaska."

Barbara looked at Damian critically, "So, when you say sister-in-law..."

"It's just a joke...for now.  One day, though..."

Barbara smiled warmly, "Counting the days already?"

"Only four more years, Barbara.  I'm not trying to hint anything, but why don't you and Dick see if you can beat me there?"

Barbara's eyes widened in shock, "It's something to think about.  Careful what you wish for, though.  If things go right, a little ring bearer or flower girl might just be available by the time you and Robin eventually get married."

Damian gave a contented smile, "Uncle Damian might be okay with that."

Damian and Barbara winced as a metal serving tray crashed to the floor after slipping out of the hand of a waiter.  Some sarcastic applause could be heard around the room as Damian slipped away, using the distraction to get back on task.

Damian activated his earpiece and said softly, "What's next, Kent?"

It took a second for Clark to respond, "It took you that long to straighten a painting?"

"No, I was...held up," Damian said with embarrassment in his voice, "This is a society event, and I am a Wayne.  There are certain expectations on us at an event like this."

"Okay," Clark said, "I take it you heard the tray fall?  Go and help clean up the mess."

"On it."

Damian made his way over to where he assumed the crash came from, and stopped in his tracks at the sight before him.

"Sorry I bumped into you," Jon said as he picked up the last of the appetizers from the floor.

The waiter walked away, and Damian blended into the crowd again.  "Too late.  The mess was already cleaned up.  Jon took care of it."

Clark was shocked, but tried to hide the feeling from his voice, "So, that puts him one up on you, then."

Damian cringed, remembering what was at stake.  "I guess so.  What's next?"

The smile was unmistakable in Clark's voice, "You know, Bruce is looking kind of thirsty.  Why don't you get him a drink?"

Damian's jaw dropped an inch, "How am I supposed to do that, if he isn't supposed to see me?"

"I'm sure you'll find a way," Clark said lightly.

Damian sighed at his task.  _How the hell am I supposed to get him a drink without him knowing it came from me?  I suppose just sending a waiter over there won't count.  I need to distract Father, so Jon doesn't have a chance to get any more prompts on ways to work against me.  Wait, Father is subject to the same scrutiny as I am.  Yes, that just might work, but I'm going to have to act...cute.  Uggh._

Damian approached a blonde woman in her late twenties or early thirties.  _Yes, she ought to serve my needs nicely._

"Um...hi."

The woman turned and smiled as she looked down at Damian.  "Well, hello there."

Damian intentionally blushed a bit and tried to stammer over his words, "Um, I hope this doesn't sound too forward, but I have to tell you that you look really pretty."

Damian was cringing internally at how he had to act to make his plan work.  The woman's face lit up at the compliment.  "Oh, thank you, sweetheart.  You look pretty handsome yourself.  I bet you look just like your dad."

 _Oh, lady, you have no idea._   Damian gave a short laugh, "People tell me that all the time.  I'm Damian, by the way."

"Hello Damian.  My name is Janet."  She looked around, "Are you here by yourself tonight?"

Janet gave, what Damian thought, was supposed to be a mischievous laugh.  He shook his head, "No, I'm with my Dad tonight.  He's right over there."

Janet followed Damian's pointing finger and gasped, "That's Bruce Wayne!"

"Yeah.  That's my Dad."

Janet looked back at Damian, like she was trying to solve a puzzle.  "Damian...Damian Wayne?"

Damian grinned slyly, "That's me."

Janet looked back over at Bruce, and found him with a less than pleasant look on his face.  "He doesn't look too happy to be here tonight."

 _Thank you, Father, for not leaving home without your scowl.  You just made this a whole lot easier for me._   Damian leaned in a bit closer to Janet, "Can I trust you with a secret?"  Janet nodded.  "He's been a bit...down lately.  I think he's working too much.  He just seems sad lately.  My brothers and I have tried to cheer him up, but it just doesn't seem to stick for long."

Janet looked saddened at the story Damian was fabricating.  "Oh, honey.  That's so sad."

Damian looked down before turning on the Dick Grayson trademark puppy dog eyes.  "It just makes me sad, seeing him like this."

Janet was about to melt in Damian's hands, "I wish there was a way I could help you with that, sweetie."

Damian gave a hopeful smile, "You do?"

"Sure."

"Well, there is something, but...no, that's asking too much.  I don't even know you.  It wouldn't be right to ask."

Janet gave a smile, "Why don't you ask anyway?"

 _This woman will fall for anything,_ Damian thought.  "Dad doesn't really get out much anymore.  He's too busy with work, and his family.  I think...if he were to meet someone new, even if it was just a passing greeting or a couple minutes of polite conversation, I think that would help get him back to his old self."

Janet looked over at Bruce again.  Damian thought to himself, _time to put it over the top._   When Janet turned back, Damian was staring longingly at Bruce.  He spoke softly, so Janet had to lean in close to hear.  "You know, my birthday is tomorrow.  I'm turning fourteen.  I think the only thing I really want this year is to see my Dad smile again."

That did it.  Janet was ready to do anything for Damian in that moment.  "I think I can help you with that, honey, but what do I say?  He's Bruce Wayne.  What am I supposed to do for an introduction?"

The woman looked back at the teen, and her jaw dropped.  Damian was holding two flutes of champagne, which he snagged off of the tray of a passing waiter.  "You could offer him a drink?  I think that is a fairly normal icebreaker."

Janet took the drinks with a smile, then kissed Damian on the cheek.  "That's for being such a caring son.  Wish me luck."

Janet started to walk away when Damian called out, "Oh, Janet, wait.  Please don't tell him that I asked you to go talk to him.  He would just get all embarrassed, and that really wouldn't help anything."

Janet smiled back at Damian, "Your secret is safe with me."

Damian waited until the woman was out of sight before giving a full body shiver.  _That was revolting.  Are all society women so gullible, or is it because I painted Father as a vulnerable victim?  Whatever, she's his problem now.  This ought to buy me a few minutes, let's not waste them._

"Okay, Kent.  What's next?"

"I don't see a drink in Bruce's hand yet," came back over the comm line."

"Wait for it," Damian replied.

Damian didn't have to watch his father to know when the drink was delivered.  Clark's exclamation said it all.  "How did you pull that off?"

Damian shrugged, "I'm a Wayne.  We have our own superpowers."

Clark chuckled at that, "I don't doubt it, and I'm sure that power is something that the boys of your group would like you to be able to teach them."

Damian gave a small smirk, "Sorry, family secret."

"As the parent of one of those boys, I thank you for that."

"What's next," Damian asked again.

Clark took a deep breath, "Can you see the red-headed waiter?  He's on the east side of the room, working south."

It took several seconds for Damian to spot him, "Is that one of West's relatives?"

"I don't think so.  That took a while for you to locate him."

Damian rolled his eyes, "I'm not as tall as you.  I can't exactly look over the top of the crowd.  Is he a danger?"

Clark shook his head, "No, he's working for us.  When he gets to you, you can have any of the appetizers you want, but make sure you ask him for the green one."

"What flavor are the green ones?"

Clark tried not to laugh, "Ask for the green one, and he'll give you a surveillance device.  Let me know when you have it, and I'll give you the next step."

Damian waited until the waiter was closer before flagging him down.  The red-haired man approached, asking, "Appetizer, sir?"

 _Why does it bother me when he calls me sir?_   Damian looked over the selection and said, "May I have two of the pot stickers and the green one, please?"

The waiter did a double take at Damian before nodding and handing over the requested snacks.  Damian returned the nod as the waiter walked away.  He was going to throw away the appetizers, but changed his mind.  Damian pulled the thin device from the napkin and popped a pot sticker into his mouth.

"I have...oh!  Uggh!"

Clark heard Damian coughing and gagging over the comm line.  "Damian, are you alright?"

Damian was wincing as he said, "Stay away from the pot stickers.  God, those could be considered deadly weapons.  I can feel the botulism coursing through my system."

Clark shook his head, "Alfred's cooking has spoiled your palate."

"Maybe, but Alfred would commit suicide if something like that was ever served at one of his parties.  I think this surveillance device would have tasted better.  What am I doing with the bug?"

"Plant it on the statue, discreetly."

Damian looked around the room, "Which one?  There are ten in this room."

Clark smiled at Damian asking about that detail.  "The big one, in the center of the room.  The one with the four columns surrounding it."

"Does it have to go anywhere in particular?"

"No.  It's an omnidirectional surveillance device.  It'll pick up what we need, no matter where you put it on the statue."

Damian crossed the room to a large, Greek likeness.  Being the ever-vigilant student of art that he was, Damian could tell that it wasn't an actual Greek statue, but a modern interpretation of a Greek style of sculpture.  Still, it was aesthetically pleasing, and seemed appropriate for the space.

However, Damian noticed two things that bothered him.  First, a large crowd was gathered around the statue, making approaching the sculpture difficult.  Second, there was another surveillance device planted on the marble figure.  It wasn't obvious to the crowd, but Damian had no trouble spotting it.

 _Father obviously told Jon where to plant it; it's exactly where I would have put it._   "Jon's been here," Damian muttered.

"What," Clark asked.

"There's already a bug on the statue."

Damian could hear the sigh, "That puts him two up on you, doesn't it?"

Damian cringed, "Yes, it does."

"Well, plant yours as well.  Then, I'll give you your next task.  You only have a few tasks left."

Damian planted his bug, with anger rising in his stomach.  "I'm going offline for a couple minutes.  I need to use the restroom, and I don't think you want to hear that."

Clark said, "Thank you.  You're right, I don't want to hear that.  Let me know when you're back."

Damian didn't actually need to use the restroom; he just wanted to plot his next moves.  _Jon is already pulling ahead.  Remember what Kent said, I need to complete my tasks before Jon, if I want to get my phone back.  Have I already lost this, though?  Will completing the rest of the tasks matter if I've already failed the two tasks Jon beat me to?  I don't think I'm going to win, playing by their rules.  It's time to make them play by my rules.  This will be fun.  If I can't win by following their rules, then the rules need to change.  I also need to know the instructions Jon is getting.  There is only one way to do that, though.  Sorry Jon, but it's time to mess with your head._

It wasn't difficult for Damian to find Jon in the crowd.  He was the only one standing with a hand over his ear, looking lost and confused.  _We need to work on stealth, Jon.  You are being too obvious, but thanks for letting me know which ear your earpiece is in._

Jon sighed as he dropped his hand to his side.  Damian approached with a soft smile, "Hi, Jon."

Jon looked over with a gaze of relief at seeing a familiar face.  "Hi, Damian.  Are these things always like this?"

Damian looked around, "No.  This one is more crowded than your normal society event.  How are you holding up?"

Jon shook his head, "This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.  Why do you look so calm?"

Damian smiled, "I've been completing solo missions since I was five...I might even tell you about that someday."  Jon's look fell as Damian continued, "It's not a story that can be told in a setting this public, and you're not ready to know all of that yet.  Trust me, it's better this way."

A haunted look flashed across Damian's face quickly, and Jon figured that he really didn't need to push for more details.  Jon looked uncomfortable, and tugged at his collar.

 _Perfect,_ Damian thought, _here's my chance._   "What's wrong?"

"How is anyone supposed to be comfortable in one of these things?"

Damian took a step closer and reached for the younger boy's bow tie.  "Here, let me help.  It's a little trick I learned."

Damian loosened Jon's tie just enough to get his fingers to Jon's collar.  He unfastened the top button of Jon's shirt before snugging the bow tie back in place.

"There.  Now you still look formal, but you are able to breathe."

Jon smiled, "Thanks.  That's better."

Damian looked at Jon critically, "Are you sure you're uncomfortable in that tux?"

Jon nodded, "I'd rather be home, in my sweats, if I had a choice."

Damian looked Jon up and down, "Whether you're comfortable or not, you do look good in a tuxedo."  Damian reached out and straightened Jon's lapels, "It fits you well."

He took a lap around the boy, with Jon looking at him strangely.  When Damian was in front of Jon again, he stood much closer to the boy.  "Yes, you could pass for a society kid in that suit, but you've got something on your shirt."

Jon gasped and looked down, "Oh no!  Did I stain it?  Dad told me not to; it's a rental."

Damian brushed his hand down Jon's chest, a little more slowly than he might normally.  Damian spoke softly, "No, you didn't stain it.  It's just some crumbs."

Damian had started speaking in a tone that caused Jon to lean in closer, to hear him.  Damian looked up again, meeting Jon's eyes, and he could tell that Jon was realizing just how close Damian was to him.  It was a strange feeling for the younger boy.

"We need to do something about your hair, though.  Intentionally messy is one thing, but unkempt is not a good, formal look."

Damian pulled a comb out of his pocket and started attempting to tame Jon's wild hair.  Jon held still, but asked, "Do you always carry a comb around with you?"

"Most of the time," Damian said distractedly, trying not to hurt the boy when the comb got tangled in a knot.

A minute later, Damian smiled at Jon, placed his hands on both of Jon's upper arms, and moved him back just a bit, to see his handiwork.  He moved the boy far enough so that Jon was leaning, but not far enough that Jon felt like he needed to take a step back.  "There, much better."

"Is it," Jon asked.

"Much."  Damian was about to reach for his phone, to take a picture and show Jon the difference, but he remembered that his phone was gone.  "Trust me."

Damian stared into Jon's eyes, seeing the confusion he was planting starting to take hold.  "I wonder..." Damian said softly.

Damian slid a hand gently up to Jon's cheek, confusing the boy more.  Damian leaned in the few remaining inches between them and brushed a soft kiss against Jon's cheek.  Leaning back, Damian had to hide his joy at Jon's wide eyes, flushed cheeks, and hanging jaw.  "Hmm..."

"Why did you do that," Jon whispered, confusion taking over.

Damian shrugged, "I wanted to see what it would be like.  Well, got to get back to the tasks.  See you later."

Damian didn't wait for a response.  He turned before Jon could recover, or see his smile at an accomplished mission.  Damian looked down as he opened his clenched right hand, revealing the earwig he had slipped from Jon's ear while he was distracted.

_I'll have to talk to him later and explain everything, but for now, I can see what the opposition is up to._

Damian set the appropriated earpiece to receive only and slid it into his right ear.  It only took a minute before he heard his Father's voice.  "Jonathan, are you ready for your next task?"

Damian smiled, thinking _sorry, Father.  Jonathan is in no condition to talk to you right now._

"Jonathan, can you hear me?"

_Knowing Father, he will call Kent and ask if he is having trouble getting in touch with me.  Time for some more acting._

Clark's voice came through Damian's left ear, "Damian are you receiving me?"

 _Weird.  Parents in stereo.  Let's see how well this works.  "_ Kent?  Say...I can...you, but...-ry other word."

Damian could imagine Clark shaking his head slowly, "We've got some interference on the channel.  I'm going to try resetting the frequency.  Hold on."

Damian smiled to himself, "Say again...can't...you."

"Just hold on, Damian."

The line was silent for a minute before Damian heard Clark's voice again.  "How about now, Damian?"

"That's better.  There's still a bit of distortion, but it is nowhere near as bad as before.  I'm also hearing an occasional beeping.  I think it might be a low battery indicator."  _Maybe I can convince them that Jon's earpiece died._

"That can't be," Clark said, "These are brand new earwigs, and I charged them all day yesterday."

Damian shrugged, "Maybe we got a bad battery?"

Clark sighed over the line, "Okay.  There's nothing we can do about that right now.  You only have a couple more tasks left.  Let's get this done.  If your earwig dies, too, find one of us.  It doesn't matter who you find.  If that happens, then we'll call this on a technical difficulty.  Okay, your next task should be fairly easy.  You already saw Wally and Diana standing fairly close to each other.  They have been ordered not to interact tonight.  Your goal is to get them to talk to each other.  Even a couple words will count as completing this task.  Leave your microphone on this time, so I can hear them for myself."

"Don't you have super hearing," Damian asked.

"It's a little loud in here to use that right now," Clark replied.

Bruce's voice surprised Damian, sounding in his right ear, "Jon, if you can hear me, I'm sending Dick to find you, to check out your earpiece."

Damian winced, _shit, I need to hurry now.  Wait, why didn't Dick see what I did to Jon?  I thought he was supposed to be tracking me?  Why didn't I think about that before I hatched my plan?_

Damian circled around the room, until he found Wally and Diana again.  The incognito Wonder Woman was standing aloof, just staring at the party.  Wally, on the other hand, was having an animated conversation with Dick.  Damian began to get suspicious.  _He's supposed to be looking for Jon.  Did Dick already find him, or was that just a ploy by Father, to get me to screw up?  Does Father know what I did yet?_   Damian thought for a second as another thought occurred to him.  _Was I this paranoid when I was doing missions for the League of Assassins?  I can't think about that now, I have a mission to complete, and West is giving me my best possibility to do that right now._

Working his way behind Wally, Damian quickly timed his next move.  It only took a second for Damian to time his move.  Trying hard to keep the smile off of his face, Damian took several steps forward at the same time that Wally threw his arms out expansively.  The result was exactly what Damian hoped for; Wally smacked him right in the mouth. 

In order to sell it a little more, Damian flopped to the ground with a grunt and a hand held over his mouth.  It didn't hurt, but Damian covered his mouth to cover the fact that he was biting his lip hard, in hopes of drawing a bit of blood.

Instantly, Dick and Wally were kneeling next to Damian.  To his satisfaction, Diana came over, as well.  Damian looked up at Wally and said, "Watch what you're doing, West."

"Are you okay, Damian," Wally and Dick asked at the same time.

Finally tasting the coppery tang he was hoping for, Damian took his hand away from his mouth and grumbled, "I'll be fine.  Didn't you ever teach your friend how to behave at one of these events?"

Wally and Dick winced at the blood, and Dick said, "It's been a while since he's been to one of these events."

Diana spoke up, "You really shouldn't call attention to yourself tonight, Wally."

Damian had to bite his lip, again, to kill his smile.  _Bingo, another task completed._

Wally looked a bit upset as he asked, "Did you know it was me before you got up close and personal with my hand?"

Damian gave a red-tinged smile, "Of course.  That is a terrible dye job.  It makes you stand out more than if you had just left your hair red."

Wally grimaced, "I was trying to blend in."

"Then you should have dyed your eyebrows, too," Damian said.

Dick and Diana both laughed loudly.  Damian ran his tongue over his teeth before smiling at Diana.  "Did I get all of it?"

Diana took a closer look, laying a hand on Damian's shoulder before saying, "Yes, you got it."

Damian nodded as he walked away, thinking, _why do I get the feeling that she knows all of the things that just happened in that interaction, and why do I think she's on my side here?_

"Done, Kent."

Damian could hear the smile in Clark's voice, "I think that might have been too easy of a task for you.  Are you okay?"

Damian couldn't help smiling to himself, "Do you really think that anything that just happened was out of my control?  Everything went according to my plan."

Clark thought about that for a second before asking, "You haven't seen Jon lately, have you?  He seems to be having radio problems, too."

 _Yes, I know._   "No, I haven't seen him.  Should I be looking out for him?"

"Yes," Clark replied, "Your next task should actually help with that.  You need to make a complete circuit of the room, without being seen."

Damian stopped in his tracks, "I've been doing that all night."

"Well, you need to do it once more.  Let me know when you're done.  By the way, I'll know if you lie about it."

 _If you know when I'm lying, why didn't you say something about all of the other lies I've fed you tonight?_   Damian was already a quarter of the way through his circuit by the time he said, "Okay, one more time around."  _It'll help me complete the last of my preparations._

Seven minutes later, Damian completed everything he needed, and activated his microphone.  "Done."

The surprise was evident in Clark's voice, "Already?  You must have been moving fast."

"What good would I be if I wasn't able to do that?"

Clark shrugged, "What, indeed.  Your final task of the evening is probably the toughest one I've given you yet.  Your last task is to find Martian Manhunter."

"No."

Clark didn't quite believe what he had just heard, "Excuse me?"

"I said, no.  I'm done jumping through your hoops."

"You know what that means, right?"

Damian took a couple steps closer before turning off his microphone.  Damian was only a step behind Clark when he said, "It means I fail my test.  Well, I already did that, when Jon started completing tasks ahead of me."

Clark spun, surprised that Damian could get so close without being detected.  "I guess you don't want your phone back, then?"

A hint of a smirk crossed Damian's face, "Oh, I'll get my phone back, and what's more, your League will demand I get it back."

 _What is he talking about,_ Clark thought.  "Not if you don't find J'onn."

Damian lost his smirk, "Why?  He doesn't have my phone.  You do."

That announcement startled Clark, and caused the smirk to reform on Damian's face.  "Did you honestly think I didn't see when he slipped it to you?  Do you also think that I wouldn't track him as he walked away?  How about when he transformed into the waiter?  Did you think I wouldn't pick up on any of that?"

Clark actually blushed as his preparations for the evening were dismantled.  "With as close as you got to me, why didn't you just take your phone back?"

Damian cocked his head, "Where would be the fun in that?  No, I wanted you to know that I knew, and I wanted to have a little fun.  I could have taken my phone back at any time."

Clark asked, "You think you're that sneaky?"

Damian's smile grew, "You know that part in all of the Kung Fu movies, where people walk barefoot across paper, to prove that they're stealthy?"  Clark nodded, "I could do that when I was three."

Clark was impressed, "So, where does that leave us?"

Damian reached into a pocket and slowly pulled out a phone.  Clark's eyes widened, "You _did_ take your phone back."

"No.  I took yours."

Clark patted his pockets and only found Damian's phone in his pocket.  "Are you proposing an even trade, then?"

Damian shook his head, "No.  I'm proposing you check in with your League, and see what they have to say."

Clark was confused, "Why should I do that?"

Damian shrugged again, "They might have a say in your decision."  Damian reached into his jacket and pulled out another phone, "Mr. West, for example."  Another reach, another phone, "Or Ms. Prince."  And another, "Or Mr. Grayson."  Yet another, "Or Mr. Queen." And finally, "Or Mr. Jordan."

Clark's eyes bugged out at the stack of cell phones in the teen's hand.  "What's the meaning of this?"

"If I lose, we all lose," Damian said, all joking gone from his tone.

"Is that reverse teamwork?"

"You tell me."

Clark smirked, "I can't help noticing that there are two missing phones from your stack, and missing names from your list.  Explain those to me, while I think about your proposal."

Damian sighed, "There is no way I could have gotten close enough to Father to swipe his phone without him noticing.  He's my Father, he knows what to look for when I'm trying to be sneaky."

"And Jon?"

Damian shook his head, "That would have just been mean.  I've already messed with his head enough for one night.  I already got what I needed from him."

Clark was confused, but intrigued, "What did you need?"

Damian reached up and pulled the earwig from his left ear.  He could tell that Clark didn't quite get it, so Damian pulled the other device from his right ear.

Clark's jaw dropped as he repeated, "How did you do that?"

Damian shook his head, "I just told you.  I'm sneaky, and I messed with his head."  Damian then winced, "Um, let me talk to him before you ask him anything.  I can relieve a lot of his confusion better than you can, in this case."

"Where is he," Clark asked, nodding.

"Last time I saw him, he was sitting on a bench in the lobby."

Clark sounded embarrassed as he asked, "You didn't have radio trouble, did you?"

"Nope.  I just needed a way to explain Jon's radio silence.  He was winning.  To keep that from happening, I needed to know what Father was telling him."

"That explains a lot," Bruce said, walking up to the duo.  He looked at the stack of phones and asked, "Taking up a new hobby, son?"

"Turnabout, Father," Damian said, with a slight wince.

Bruce looked at Clark and said, "Let me guess, he thought there was a chance I would allow you to withhold his phone, so he turned a training exercise into a Mexican standoff?"

Clark laughed, "Something like that."

Bruce eyed his son, and asked Clark, "Did you get to the part where you explain that only two of the tasks on the list crossed over?"

Damian winced, looking down, "No, he didn't.  That doesn't make me feel any better, Father.  Jon was able to finish those tasks first."

Bruce motioned to the devices, "You obviously had other things on your mind."

Damian grew a smile, "I might not have considered all of my options before acting tonight, but I think the more important conversation, at this point, should be why the three of us are the only ones involved in this conversation right now."

Bruce and Clark looked around, noticing the lack of Justice Leaguers in their area.  Clark nodded, "He has a point."  Clark activated his radio again, "Exercise is over.  Regroup."

A minute later, five Justice League members stood slack-jawed, staring at the stack of cell phones still held in Damian's hand.  Clark looked around and asked, "Did any of you know this happened?"

Five negative responses met Clark's question.  He smiled and pulled Damian's phone out of his pocket.  Holding it up, Clark said, "Okay, deal."

"West."  Damian smiled as he handed the stack of phones to the speedster and took his own phone back.

Damian turned to walk away when Wally said, "Hey, wait..."

Damian turned back, "You will have to figure out whose phone is whose on your own.  You all have the same phone, I can't tell them apart.  And wash that crap out of your hair, it looks terrible."

Bruce put a hand on Damian's shoulder and asked, "Where are you going?"

Damian looked up, "Something I have to take care of.  Please, Father, I need ten minutes of privacy."

Damian found Jon sitting on a bench in the lobby, exactly where he was the last time Damian saw him.  Jon was leaning forward, looking down, with his elbows on his knees.  Damian sighed as he approached.  _Damn, it looks like my plan worked too well._

Damian sat on the bench and said softly, "Hello, Jon."

Jon flinched slightly, sending a spike of guilt through Damian.  "Hi," the youth said softly.

Damian sighed, "It seems like, every time we work together, I end up having to apologize to you.  I'm sorry for what I did, Jon."

Jon looked up, surprised, "You're sorry?"

Damian nodded gently, "Yes.  I did something I shouldn't have, something that obviously had the effect I was going for, and once again, you suffered the consequences."

Jon still looked confused, "Why did you..."  He leaned closer and whispered, "Why did you kiss me?"

"To confuse you," Damian said plainly.

"It worked," Jon said, leaning back with a pout.

Damian sighed, "Let me see if I can explain it a little better.  What were Father's instructions to you for tonight?"

Jon squinted over at Damian, "To follow his instructions to complete the tasks."

Damian looked only partly surprised, "That's it?"

"Yes, why?"

"I was given different instructions tonight.  You see, I was told that tonight was a competition.  You, backed by Father, against me on my own.  In order to win, I had to complete all of my tasks first, but, I was also told that we were being given the same tasks to complete."

That got Jon's attention, "We were?"

Damian shook his head, "No.  Only two of the tasks were actually the same.  I didn't find that out until a couple minutes ago.  When I got to those tasks, I found that you had completed them first."

Jon's jaw dropped, "I did?"

"Yes, you did.  When I told your dad that, he kept pointing out that you were ahead in the competition.  I don't like to lose, so I had to do something about it.  I had to know what instructions you were getting, and that required some...different tactics."

Jon stared for a moment, "I think I'm still confused."

Damian reached into his pocket and pulled out the two earwigs.  "I used what I knew about you, and years of training and experience, to get close to you and get what I wanted.  I knew what I was doing would be confusing and unsettling to you.  I did it anyway.  I'm sorry."

Jon stared at the earpieces for a full minute before he reached up to his ear and found that his device was actually gone.  He then stared at the older boy, until Damian spoke again.  "I understand if you are angry with me.  I understand if you don't trust me, and don't want to be around me.  I understand if you want to cancel our plans for this weekend.  I'm sorry I used you like that."

Jon interrupted, "This weekend?  You mean...you wanted me to sleep over?"

Damian stopped his train of apologies, "I thought that was implied.  If you don't feel comfortable doing that anymore, I completely understand.  Unfortunately, I know just how much of a jerk I can be."

"This training you talked about, the one you used to...well, to confuse me, can you teach us that?"

It was time for Damian's jaw to drop, "You would still feel comfortable around me?"

Jon stared sidelong at Damian, "We'll see, after we get to know each other a little better this weekend."

Damian stared, dumbfounded, "How are you not mad at me?"

Jon stared back, "I don't know.  I guess, maybe, you feel bad for what you did, and you apologized.  It shows that you are trying to change."

Damian sighed, "I'm supposed to be teaching you.  Why do I think that you can teach me just as much as I can teach you?"

"Like what?"

"Like how to be a friend, or how to be a normal person.  I have a lot to learn in that department."

Jon smiled, "At least you didn't try to rip my head off this time.  So, can you teach us that?"

Damian thought for a second, "I'll have to run that past our parents.  That technique is part of a larger training group that you might be a little young for.  The intended outcome is a bit advanced for a younger audience."

Jon almost looked hurt, "You know who taught it to you, though."

Damian sighed, looking down, "No, he didn't.  I...I can't tell you where, or when, or why I was forced to learn that.  Not yet, and definitely not here."

Jon looked disappointed, and Damian found he didn't like the look.  "I can tell you some...a little, a _very_ little, of it this weekend.  Not everything, though, but some.  Don't push for more than that, though, and you can't tell anyone about it."

Jon's look changed to one of curiosity, and Damian had to hold up a finger to stop his comment, "Didn't I just say not to push?"

Jon grimaced, "Why can't you tell me, or us, or all of us?"

Damian whispered, "It's too painful.  You might not be as accepting and forgiving of me, if you knew the whole truth."

"The whole truth of what?"

"Of me," Damian said, staring at the ground.

They were quiet for a minute, until Jon patted Damian's forearm.  "You're trying.  That's all I really need to know, for now."

A shadow fell over the boys as Bruce and Clark approached the bench.  Bruce asked quietly, "Is everything okay over here now?"

Damian looked up, a bit guiltily, "Father, I asked for ten minutes."

"And I gave you fifteen, but it's time to go now.  Jon has school tomorrow.  So, I'll ask again, is everything alright now?"

Everyone looked at Jon, who chirped, "Yep.  Let's go."

_Two Hours Later..._

After returning home, finalizing plans for the weekend, and seeing the Kryptonians off through the Zeta Tube, Bruce and Damian sat in the cave, talking.

"So, do you want to tell me what tonight was all about," Bruce asked.

"Learning to follow directions."

Bruce nodded, "Not just that, but learning to follow other's directions.  How do you think you did?"

Damian smirked, "I think I failed miserably."

"That's not what Clark thought.  You acted with the least amount of input, completed all of your tasks, and weren't caught.  You succeeded tonight."

Damian shook his head, "I'm sorry, I just don't see it that way, Father."

"Why not," Bruce asked.

"Because, with the parameters I was given, I failed.  I didn't complete all my assigned tasks, I went off script when it suited my needs, and I basically had to hold the League hostage because I'm programmed to not accept losing."

Bruce scooted his chair closer and grabbed Damian's hand.  "We'll work on that.  Clark said it took almost half an hour to complete your first task, though.  What happened?"

Damian rolled his eyes, "It took me ten minutes to complete the task, and it would have only taken four if Kent knew the difference between a Chagall and a Matisse.  He sent me to straighten the wrong painting."

Bruce smiled, "Then why did it take you another twenty minutes to report that you were ready for the next task?"

Damian sighed shortly, "Because I'm a Wayne, and that was a society event.  I got held up by Alvia Hopkins."

Bruce smiled, "She still trying to get around on her own, even though she's blind as a bat?"

Damian cocked his head, "That's an interesting phrase, given where we're sitting.  She almost knocked over a statue.  I escorted her to the restroom, where she introduced me to her granddaughter."

"Oh," Bruce asked with a grin, "How did that go?"

Damian shrugged, "I got her phone number.  I won't use it, but it kind of made me feel good, that she thought about me that way."

"You talked to her for a bit?"

Damian shook his head, "Just a couple minutes.  Then, I ran into Barbara Gordon...literally.  We talked for a while.  She sounds like she is serious about Dick this time."

Bruce nodded, "Good.  What happened with Jon?"

Damian looked down, embarrassed at what he had to admit.  "I needed to know what you were telling him, so I found a way to confuse him enough to get his earpiece away from him, without him noticing.  I...I used parts of assassin training to get...too close.  I purposely made him feel uncomfortable, then..."

"Damian," Bruce asked after Damian trailed off.

"I kissed him."

Bruce's eyes widened, "You WHAT?"

Damian cringed, "I confused him by..."

"I'm not sure I want to hear that part," Bruce said, "You've told me enough about how Talia trained you.  Get to the last part."

Damian nodded sadly, "I kissed him on the cheek to distract him from the fact that I was pulling the earwig out of his ear."

They were quiet for a minute before Bruce said, "Well, let's hope you didn't just make the society page.  I don't know how we would explain that one."

"Tt.  Give me a little credit, Father.  I made sure no one could see us.  If anything, it would just look like I was whispering in his ear."

"Is that why you had to talk to him?"

Damian nodded, "Yes.  I had to apologize and explain my actions."

Bruce shrugged, "He obviously isn't holding it against you, if he is coming over for the weekend."

A smile tried to cross Damian's face, "He wants me to teach him how I, for lack of a better word, seduced him."

Bruce's eyes widened, "I don't think Clark would appreciate you teaching his ten year old that."

Damian nodded, "That's what I told Jon."

Bruce smiled at his son, "Why did you target the League's cell phones?"

Damian shrugged, "Why did the League target mine?"

Bruce's smile grew, "Just a little inspiration to get you going."

"Well, it worked."

"Obviously," Bruce nodded, "But, you got your phone back."

"Yes, I did."

Bruce leaned forward with a predatory smile, "Did you?"

Not liking the look his father was giving him, Damian pulled his phone from his pocket.  He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as he turned the device over in his hands.

"No, I didn't.  I've never seen this phone before in my life."  Damian turned the screen on, and was surprised by what he saw, "That's my screensaver."  He typed in his unlock code, "That's my password.  My messages, my pictures...but, this isn't my phone.  What's going on here?"

Bruce's smile grew, "Read the back."

Looking down again, Damian read out, "Wayne Enterprises, V-eight?  But, I have the version seven."

"Not anymore.  Happy birthday, Damian."

Damian's jaw dropped, "You got me a new phone for my birthday?  Thank you, Dad."

Bruce sighed happily, "Not just a new phone.  Keep reading."

Damian grew confused, "There's just the serial number."

"I know.  Read it."

Damian shrugged, "W-E-M-8-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-1."

Damian looked up at Bruce, who said, "I didn't just get you a new phone, I got you the very first one to come off of the assembly line.  And, for the next three months, until the official launch in January, you are the only person in the world with that phone."

Damian rose and hugged Bruce tightly.  "Thank you, Father," the soon to be fourteen year old whispered, "but I thought we agreed that we weren't going to celebrate my birthday."

Bruce sat, pulling Damian to sit on his lap, "I don't celebrate mine.  That has never stopped any of you from buying me birthday presents.  Why don't you like celebrating your birthday, son?  You've never told any of us."

Damian sighed heavily as he snuggled into Bruce.  "I would have thought that would be obvious."  When Bruce didn't say anything, Damian continued, "Because it reminds me of...of everything."

"Like what," Bruce asked, wrapping his arms around his son.

Damian laid his head on Bruce's shoulder and spoke softly, "It's not just my birthday.  It's also the anniversary of the biggest change in my life.  Talia abandoned me on my birthday.  It eventually turned into the best gift she ever could have given me, but there was a lot of pain and confusion in between.  I should be thankful for everything I've gained, but it's just a reminder of everything I lost right now.  Tomorrow is the only day of the year when I...I actually miss her.  I can repress a lot, but I can't keep it all inside anymore.  It just hurts, that she would choose my birthday, of all days, to abandon me."

Father and son were quiet for several minutes.  Bruce didn't say anything when Damian's hand clenched Bruce's shirt tightly, or when his breath started hitching quietly.  He didn't say anything when warm drops started sliding down his neck, where Damian had buried his face, or when Damian started sniffling.  He just squeezed Damian tighter, knowing his son needed to let it out.

When Damian was able to calm himself, Bruce spoke softly in his ear, "We may never know what possessed your mother to do the things she did, or what she actually thought or felt about you, and it may not have started out this way, but know this, and never, ever, forget it; I love you.  I love you, son.  I...I hope that can be enough for you."

Damian sighed, "You have been, so far."

Dick entered the cave and saw father and son cuddling.  He slowed his approach, to give them an extra few seconds.  Dick knew they were both aware of his presence, he just wanted their moment to last a moment longer.

Dick finally couldn't walk any slower, and he sat in the chair Damian had vacated, to sit on Bruce's lap.  Bruce and Damian swiveled their heads to look at Dick.  "You aren't supposed to cry on your birthday, Little Brother, no matter how much you don't want to celebrate it."

Damian sniffed, "I have my reasons, and my birthday is tomorrow, not today."

Dick smiled, "Nope, it's ten after.  It is officially your birthday.  Happy birthday, Damian."

Damian smiled despite his recent mood, "Thank you."

Dick returned the smile, "You know, you are a little too good at not being seen.  I lost you pretty early on, and didn't see you again until you ran into Wally."

Damian smiled at the revelation, "What possessed him to dye his hair?"

Bruce nodded, "I want to know that, too."

Dick giggled, "He thought it made him look more refined."

Bruce laughed deeply as Damian said, "Black hair, red eyebrows, and freckles are not a very dignified look."

The Zeta Tube announced Tim's return from the Watchtower.  Damian turned to Bruce and said, "That reminds me.  I couldn't help noticing that the League has revived the 'F' clearance level, I'm assuming for the kids.  Where does that leave me?"

Bruce looked at Damian innocently, "Would you like 'F' level clearance again, to fit in with your group?"

Damian shook his head quickly, "No, I don't have to fit in."

Bruce ruffled Damian's hair, "Okay, if you insist, we can keep you as a 'B'."

After changing, Tim walked over and smiled, "Happy birthday, Damian.  Look, I know you didn't want to celebrate your birthday, but I got you something, anyway.  Unfortunately, all the expedited shipping in the world wasn't enough to get it here in time.  Sorry."

Damian smiled at his brother, "That's okay, you've already given me enough for one night."

Tim looked confused, "I did?  What did I give you?"

Damian looked down and said, "I couldn't fit into my tuxedo pants anymore.  Alfred let me borrow yours."

Tim looked down at the pants, "Thanks for not spilling anything on them."

Damian opened his mouth to reply, but saw Tim's smile, and just shook his head.

Bruce yawned and said, "Come on, it's bedtime."

The older boys walked to the stairs, but Bruce held Damian back for a second.  Damian looked up with curious eyes, and Bruce said softly, "Are you going to be okay in the morning?"

Damian took a deep breath, "I think so.  I'm in a good place here.  It's about time I realized that."

"Listen, I know tonight didn't turn out how you hoped.  How about we check out the gallery tomorrow, so you can actually see it this time?"

Hope flashed in Damian's eyes for a second, before his face fell again.  "We can't."

"Why can't we," Bruce asked.

"I wanted to go to the gallery, and I looked into the exhibit weeks before I knew we were invited to the sneak peek.  The gallery doesn't open to the public until Monday."

Bruce gave a wink and a smile, "We aren't the public.  Remember when I said I know the gallery owner?  I called in a favor.  So, how about you come to work with me tomorrow morning, I'll knock off early, we'll get a nice lunch, and then, we will have the gallery to ourselves, for as long as you want."

Damian's eyes looked like they were going to fall out of his head before he flung himself at Bruce.  "Thank you, Dad.  That sounds perfect."

The duo walked into the house, and Bruce asked, "Hey, why didn't you want Jon to come over until Saturday?"

Damian looked slightly guilty, "Well, it didn't feel right to invite him over on my birthday.  I hardly know him.  I don't want him to feel uncomfortable, dropping him into something like that with no notice.  Even if we aren't going to celebrate my birthday, it will still be mentioned far too much tomorrow.  I don't want him to feel uncomfortable."

Bruce gave a warm smile, "You really do like him, don't you."

"He's a better person than I'll ever be," Damian said quietly, "I only hope I can learn a little of that from him."

Bruce threw an arm around Damian's shoulder as they walked out of the cave.  "You're not so bad yourself."

Alfred met the father/son pair at the base of the stairs.  "Ah, I was wondering if I missed you two.  Might I be the first to say happy birthday, Master Damian."

"You might not," Damian said, "Dad, Dick, and Tim beat you to it."  Damian walked over, hugged Alfred tightly and said softly, "Thank you, anyway."

Alfred broke his normal rule and returned the hug tightly.  Bruce was surprised by the affection from the butler.  Alfred asked, "Are you sure you don't want to do anything special for your birthday?  It would be no trouble, young sir."

Damian thought for a second, "You know, I might have been a bit hasty in my decision.  Perhaps we should do something."

Bruce had to do a double take at his son as Alfred said, "It is your day.  What would you like?"

"To go out."

Alfred looked a bit hurt, "Are you sure?"

Damian nodded, "Yes.  If we stayed here, you would insist on cooking, and being Alfred the butler.  If we go out, then you can sit next to me, and just be Alfred, my good friend."

Alfred gasped, and said softly, "It would be my pleasure, Master Damian.  Come, let's get you two into bed.  It sounds like tomorrow will be quite the day."

 

**A/N: So, just to let you know, I am heading in the direction of giving Damian a team.  It will NOT be the Teen Titans or Young Justice.  In fact, all of the previous talk about coming up with a name was just for whimsy.  In my mind, the group will never have a name, beyond The Group, or The Team.  At least, for now.**

**Let me be honest, I didn't like writing Assistants.  It started out okay, but by the end, I was tired of it, and it wasn't fun to write.  I wanted to write something that I enjoyed a bit more, and this story came up.  It was a lot more fun coming up with this one, and I found myself smiling a lot more while writing it.**

**Not quite sure which one I will be writing next.  I have a couple ideas in the pipeline, but they are mostly just ideas right now.  Like always, if anyone has suggestions or ideas you would like me to write, leave them in the comments of Timeline.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	2. 2

Baby Steps

Chapter 2

 

Bruce was rather concerned at the strange noises coming from outside of his bedroom door.  He had just gotten out of the shower, and had been hearing a rising and falling thumping noise filtering through the wall.  Loud noises weren’t uncommon in his house, not with four active boys under one roof, but he usually had no problems identifying the sounds he heard.

Bruce opened his bedroom door and leaned against his door frame with a soft smile on his face.  Damian was pacing up and down the hall, his footfalls just a bit heavier than normal.

Damian didn’t stop his pacing as Bruce asked, “Everything alright, son?”

“No,” Damian said shortly in passing as he walked back down the hall.

As Damian was approaching his father again, Bruce asked, “Jon will be here soon, right?”

“About half an hour,” Damian said, turning his back on Bruce again to head back down the hall.

“You aren’t having second thoughts, are you,” Bruce called after his son.

Damian shrugged as he turned back to head towards his Father again, “No, I have no problems keeping my plans with Jon.”

Bruce grabbed Damian’s shoulders the next time he was close, “Stop pacing already, you’re making me nervous.  What’s wrong?”

Damian sighed, “I just got off the phone with Robin.”

Bruce eyed his son carefully, “Normally you are much happier than this after talking to her.  What happened?”

Damian looked up sheepishly, “She yelled at me.”

“Why,” Bruce asked, confused.

“Because of Karen.”

Bruce thought for a second, “Who is Karen?”

“Karen Tice,” Damian said.

Bruce shook his head, “That doesn’t narrow it down for me.  Who is Karen Tice?”

Damian sighed again, “Karen Tice is Alvia Hopkins’ granddaughter.”

The light went on for Bruce, “The girl you met at the gallery fundraiser.  How did Robin find out about that?”

Damian shook Bruce’s hands off of his shoulders and continued his pacing, this time going back and forth between Bruce’s door and Dick’s, across the hall.  “Karen and Robin are friends on Facebook.  Karen posted that we met and she hoped we could go out sometime.  Robin said she had a long, private discussion with Karen online.  When she was done with Karen, Robin called to yell at me.”

Bruce was trying his best to hide his smile, “Do you have any plans to go out with Karen?”

Damian’s eyes widened in shock, “Of course not!”

Jason, who had been watching from his own bedroom door, asked, “Then why did you ask for her number?”

Damian whipped his head around, “I didn’t ask for her number.  She just gave it to me.  I didn’t give her my number, either.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Jason said, smiling, “How are you going to make it up to her?”

Damian looked at Jason strangely, “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

This time, Bruce did laugh, “Son, you are the guy in the relationship.  You’re _always_ wrong, even if you’re right.”

Damian’s jaw dropped, and Jason walked up and asked, “How long have you and Robin been dating?”

“A year and a half, or so.”

“And, no one told you the rules of relationships?”

Damian shook his head, “No, I guess not.”

Jason smiled, “Well, there is really only one rule you need to remember.  Rule number one: if she ain’t happy, you ain’t happy.”

Damian looked to be at a loss, “I don’t understand what I did.”

Bruce took over and said gently, “You flirted with one of her friends.”

“I did not.  It was a society party.  I was just being polite.  What’s wrong with that?”

Bruce shook his head, “It’s still one of her friends.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I didn’t know they were friends.”

Bruce sighed, “That’s no excuse; not to her.  The problem is that you and Karen are here, and Robin is not.  She is jealous, and scared that her first boyfriend is cheating on her.”

“I’m not cheating on her,” Damian exclaimed, “I didn’t even keep the number.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Bruce said, “You took the number in the first place, and obviously left a good impression on Miss Tice.  Face it, Damian, you are guilty of being a teenage boy.”

Damian sighed, defeated, “How do I fix this?”

Bruce laid a hand on Damian’s shoulder, “It’s going to take time, son.”

“And something pretty,” Jason added.

Damian looked over, considering his options, “Do we need to go jewelry shopping, Father?”

Bruce shook his head, smiling, “For this, no.  My rule of thumb has always been flowers for faux pas, diamonds for damn, I really screwed up.”

“What you need to do,” Jason said, “Is get down on your knees and beg her for forgiveness.  You’re a man, it’s always going to be your fault, so you better get used to that position.”

“I still don’t think I did anything wrong,” Damian mumbled.

“You didn’t,” Bruce said, “but that doesn’t matter right now.  She’s upset, and you need to show her that she is more important to you.”

Jason smiled, “While you’re down on your knees, begging like she is the executioner, getting ready to end your love life, really get in there and kiss some butt.”

Damian looked strangely at Jason for a minute, trying to comprehend what he had just heard.  “Kiss her butt,” Damian murmured questioningly.

“Couldn’t hurt, son,” Bruce said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.”

“You’ll get used to it, the longer you’re in a relationship.”

Damian glanced up at Bruce and asked innocently, “Are we talking, like, hip?  Cheek?  Crack?”

“Damian!”

Jason was cracking up as Damian continued thoughtfully, “I’ve kissed her all over, but never on the butt.”

“DAMIAN!”

Jason was doubled over in laughter as Damian said, “She has some soft, smooth skin back there.  That might not be so bad.”

Bruce grabbed hold of his son again, shaking him out of his thoughts, “Damian, stop!  It’s just a figure of speech.”

Damian looked up, “So, I _shouldn’t_ kiss her butt?”

“Figuratively, not literally.”

Damian sighed, “Why are there so many of these sayings that I’m not aware of?  Can’t people just say what they mean?”

“That’s exactly what I meant,” Jason said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

“Stop, Jason,” Bruce said, shaking his head, “Just stop.”

Alfred crested the top of the stairs and said, “It appears I have missed something this morning.”

Damian grumbled, “Yeah, the complexities of the English language.”

“Ah,” Alfred said, nodding, “Just a reminder that young Master Jonathan is due to arrive in ten minutes.  Mister Kent is nothing if not punctual.  I believe, if you will come with me, Master Damian, you will have just enough time to place an order from the florist before he arrives.”

Damian headed for the stairs in the wake of the butler, and asked, “Is there anything you don’t know, Alfred?”

The butler smiled, “Not in this house, dear boy.”

It was early enough in the day that the dozen roses Damian picked out could be delivered on the same day.  The card took a bit longer for the right sentiment to be found.  Damian’s finger hovered over the place order button for a second, and Alfred asked, “Something wrong, Master Damian?”

Damian sighed, “This feels wrong, Alfred.  I love Robin, but I’m basically admitting to something I didn’t do.”

Alfred smiled, “Yes, you are.  If you are committed to your relationship with Miss Robin, you will be doing it for the rest of your life.”

Damian sighed and placed the order, then turned away from the laptop and leaned against the counter, rubbing his forehead.  Alfred placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder and said, “May I offer a bit of advice on your place in any serious relationship?”

Damian sighed out, “Sure.”

Alfred led Damian to his table in the corner of the kitchen, where they sat down.  “You love Miss Robin, and she loves you.  One of the ways you show that is by supporting her moods.  Miss Robin needs to be reassured, almost constantly, that she is the only girl in which you are interested.  It doesn’t matter what you think you did, or what you actually did, only what she thinks you did.  When you both agree on something, you are right.  If she says yes and you say no, unless the decision is life-threatening, then the answer is yes.  If you say yes and she says no, then the answer is no.  If she says you’re wrong, even if you’re right, you’re wrong.  If you say she’s right, you’re right.  If you say she’s wrong, you’re wrong.  You need her a lot more than she needs you.  This is all made worse by the distance between you.  If she was here, this might not be an issue.  She isn’t here, though, so seemingly insignificant issues, such as your telephone number debacle, are magnified.”

Damian thought for a second, “So, I have to accept everything she thinks I did, even if I didn’t do it?”

Alfred chuckled, “Just wait until she starts calling you and blaming you for things she saw you do in a dream.  That is your fault, too.”

Damian looked overwhelmed at this new information.  “If that’s how things are going to go, then we should buy stock in our florist.”

Alfred patted Damian’s shoulder as they got up to head down to the cave, “That might not be a bad idea, Master Damian.”

_Downstairs…_

Damian was still shaking his head as he entered the cave, two minutes after Jon’s arranged arrival time.  The cave was otherwise empty, and Damian sat in his Father’s normal chair, in front of the Bat Computer.  Damian sat, staring at the Zeta Tube, for the next twenty-five minutes, wondering if Jon was coming at all.

_Maybe I really did freak him out with that kiss.  It wasn’t serious, just a means to an end.  I thought he understood that.  He said he did.  Maybe Kent didn’t want him coming over after Jon told him what I did.  Why does this bother me so much?  Why, out of everyone I know who might possibly fill the role, do I even find myself wanting this kid as a friend?  I do, though.  I want friends.  Maybe I should have had Dick teach me what friends do, or how to be a friend._

The Zeta Tube powered up and announced Jon a second before the boy stepped into the Batcave.  Jon took a couple nervous steps into the cave before he spotted Damian.  The teen rose from the tall-backed chair and walked across the space.

“Hi, Damian,” Jon chirped happily, before his gaze betrayed his nerves again.  “Is this okay,” Jon asked quietly as Damian came closer.

Damian looked confused at the question, “Is what okay?”

Jon looked down at himself and said, “How I’m dressed.  Last time I came here, I had to wear a tuxedo.”

Damian looked down at his own hooded sweatshirt and jeans, then at Jon’s jeans and jacket.  He almost smiled as he said, “You only had to wear the tuxedo because we were going to the gallery.”

“Yeah, but I think your house is fancier than the gallery was,” Jon said.

A smirk crossed Damian’s face as a joke occurred to him, “This is Saturday, Jon.  Saturdays are casual around here.”  Damian turned towards the stairs, then turned back and asked, “You brought a suit for Sunday breakfast, though, didn’t you?”

Jon’s eyes widened dramatically, “A suit?!?  No one said anything about a suit!”

“I assure you, Master Jonathan, a suit is not required for our morning repast,” Alfred spoke up.

Damian glanced over at the butler and thought, _I thought he went back upstairs.  I told him that I could handle this on my own.  I think I’m glad he’s here, though._

Jon was still looking nervous as Damian sighed, “It’s okay, Jon, we’ll let you slide, this time.”

“Are you sure,” Jon asked, “I don’t want to screw anything up.”

Alfred came close to rolling his eyes, “Master Damian is, what is the term?  Pulling your leg?  Formalwear is not required around here.”

Jon eyed the butler, “You’re wearing a suit, though.”

Damian gave the butler a crafty smile, “That’s his casual suit.  For him, that’s practically pajamas.”

Alfred did roll his eyes this time, “Master Damian, are you feeling alright?  Did Master Dick spike your corn flakes this morning?”

Jon was confused at the exchange as Damian gave one of the few rare smiles he had seen out of the older boy.

Damian said, “He must have.  I guess something had to be done, after this morning.”

_Master Damian is in a playful mood today.  Perhaps having a friend over is just the thing he needs._   Alfred turned to Jon and said, I assure you, Master Jonathan, you are appropriately clad.  May I take your bag up to your guest room?”

Jon was about to hand over the small duffle bag when Damian said, “That’s okay, Alfred.  We’ll take care of it.  I need to show him where the room is, anyway.”

Alfred inclined his head and said, “Very well, Master Damian,” before heading for the stairs.

Jon’s jaw dropped again, “Did he just bow to you?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “He likes people to think he’s Super Butler, or something.”  Jon looked at Damian strangely, and the teen continued, “Don’t get me wrong, Alfred is the best butler in the world, but he likes to act super professional around company.”

The boys started walking towards the stairs when Jon stopped in his tracks.  Damian stopped next to him and stared at Jon’s slack-jawed look.  “What?”

“Were you…were you _joking_ with me?”

“About the suit?”  Jon nodded, and Damian smirked, “Yes, I was just joking with you.”

Jon’s eyes widened, “I’ve never heard you joke around before.  I wasn’t ready for that.  I didn’t know you knew how to joke.”

Damian smiled, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”  Damian’s look flattened, “Before we go any further, I have to ask.  Are we going to be okay, with what I did to you at the gallery?”

Jon looked conflicted, but the look eased quickly, “Yeah.  Like a lot of things with you, it was just unexpected.  Come on, it’s not like you kissed me on the lips.”

“Why did you react that way,” Damian asked.  “I mean, my goal was to confuse you, not to incapacitate you.  What happened?”

Jon sighed, “I was really confused.  It was one thing after another, and it all just added up, and…I think it was just too much for me.”

Damian cocked his head, “What do you mean?”

Jon blushed a bit, “I was wandering around, alone, in a room full of strangers, wearing an uncomfortable suit and shoes that were half a size too small.”

Damian smiled at the description, and Jon said, “It was all the rental store had that were close to my size.  I was having a hard time hearing anything from that earpiece, and I was getting frustrated that I was having such a hard time with the tasks.  I felt really lost, and all I wanted was to see a friendly face.  Then you showed up, but you weren’t acting like you.  And then…it was all just too much.  I needed a break.”

Damian nodded while taking a deep breath, “I can understand needing a break.  The Gotham society set is draining even on people who have been going to these events their whole lives.  A break is one thing, but why were you still sitting there, half an hour later?”

Jon’s blush deepened, “Well…I was playing a game on my phone before you walked up.”

Jon’s phone rang in his pocket, causing Damian to chuckle, “Your ringtone is a cow mooing?”

“That’s my notification tone.”  Jon checked the screen, “Just a notification for a weekend event in the game I’m playing.”  Jon looked back up, “What’s your ringtone, if you think mine is so bad?”

Damian’s phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out to look at the screen, “Dick was messing with my phone last night.  I set it to vibrate until I have time to see what he changed.”

“Text message,” Jon asked.

Damian shook his head, “Weekend raid event notification.”

Jon looked at Damian critically, “Weekend raid event?  What game are you playing?”

Damian put his phone back in his pocket, “Something Tim introduced me to.  It’s actually pretty fun.  Kingdom Hearts.”

Jon gasped, with a smile blossoming on his face, “That’s the game I’m playing!  Oh, we need to compare stats.  Maybe we can get on the same team.”

Damian cocked his head as the boys exited the cave and headed for the stairs, leading up into the residence wing.  “Team?”

Jon looked at Damian strangely, “You’re not on a team?”

“I’m not exactly a team player.  Even if you don’t know much about me, I would have guessed you would have been able to figure that out.”

“Hey, boys,” Dick said, passing Jon and Damian on the stairs.

Jon gasped, “Uncle Dick?  What are you doing here?”

Damian’s head snapped over to look at Jon, then up at Dick, “Are you ‘Uncle Dick’ to my whole team?”

Dick caught an inflection in Damian’s voice that Jon obviously didn’t.  “Pretty much.  Except Garfield, that is.”

“Yeah, but…why are you here,” Jon asked again, confusion lacing his tone.

Damian looked over, “Who did you think I was talking about when I said Dick?”

“I don’t know, but…”

Damian interrupted, “He’s my brother.  Where else is he going to live?”

Jon looked back and forth between Dick and Damian before saying, “He’s your brother?  That’s cool, but…”

“But what?”

Jon asked softly, “Do I have to start calling you ‘Uncle Damian’ now?”

Dick laughed as Damian rolled his eyes dramatically, “God no.  You can stick with just Damian.”

Jon looked relieved, “Well, Just Damian, can I use the bathroom?”

Damian nodded, “Come on, I’ll show you where it is.”

Damian opened the door to the bedroom next to his own, “This is your guest room.”  Damian then pointed to the far wall of the room, “Door on the left is the closet.  Door on the right is the bathroom.”

Jon headed for the door on the right, “Thanks, Damian.”

“I’ll be next door, in my room, when you’re done,” Damian called through the door.

Damian wasn’t surprised to find Dick standing in his room when he entered.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it,” Dick asked softly.

Damian sighed and nodded, staring at Dick’s feet.  Dick approached and hugged his brother gently.  “Just because I have a close relationship with the kids on your team, doesn’t mean I love you any less.  They are my friend’s kids, I’m going to see them.”

“I know,” Damian said softly, hating that he still wasn’t over this jealousy.

“So, they call me Uncle.  I don’t call any of them Brother.”

Damian looked up, “I would hope not.”

Dick smiled down at his brother, “Come on, Damian, there is plenty of Dick to go around.”

Damian sighed heavily, groaned, and shook his head, “I really wish you would think about how things like that sound before you said them out loud.”

Dick’s smile grew.  He knew how to lift Damian’s spirits, just a bit.  “What makes you think I don’t?  Your friend is here.  Just have fun and enjoy it.  I’m proud of you for even trying this.”

Dick walked out of the bedroom as Jon walked in.  Damian looked at Jon and said, “Are you feeling alright?  That took a while.”

Jon shook his head, “I’m fine, but you didn’t tell me which room you would be in.”

“I said I would be in my room,” Damian said in a confused voice.

“But, you didn’t tell me which room that is.  It’s like a hotel up here.”

Damian gave a small smile, “Sorry about that.  You seem to have found me, though.”

Jon blushed, “Well, not at first.  I went the wrong way down the hall.  This place is huge.”

“You have Super Hearing.  You could have just listened for me.”

As soon as Damian said that, he hoped Jon hadn’t listened in on his last conversation with Dick.

Jon shook his head, “Mom taught me that was rude, and Dad said doing that is a good way to get a Batarang thrown at you around here.”

Damian smiled, sighing internally that, so far, his conversation with Dick was still a private matter.  He nodded at Jon’s hand, “What’s that?”

Jon started, like he forgot he was carrying something, “Oh.  I don’t know.  Dad told me to bring it.”

Damian nodded, looking at the envelope in the younger boy’s hand, “Well, let’s go find Father and give it to him.”

Jon handed over the envelope, but said, “No, Dad said to give it to you.”

Damian looked at it strangely, “To me?  What is it, your handling instructions?”

“Handling instructions?”

Damian smiled as he slid a finger under the flap of the folded paper, “Yeah.  You know, things like ‘don’t get him wet’ and ‘don’t feed after midnight’.”

Jon looked confused as Damian opened the envelope, “I think that’s a reference to something, but I don’t know what you’re talking about, Damian.  What is it?”

Jon was asking more about the confused look on Damian’s face than the movie reference.  Damian said softly, “It’s a birthday card.”

“Birthday,” Jon asked, his eyes widening.

Damian read the card out, “Best wishes on a Happy Birthday, you deserve one.  From, the Kents.  Why would they send me a birthday card?  I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a birthday card before.”

Jon was eyeing his friend.  “It’s not your birthday, is it,” Jon asked softly.

“No,” Damian answered distractedly.

Jon was confused, as well, “Well, then, why would they…”

“It was yesterday,” Damian interrupted softly.

Jon gasped, “What?  Why didn’t you tell me?”

Damian looked up and said, “I don’t celebrate my birthday.”

“Yeah, but still…that would have been nice to know.  Wait, is that why you didn’t want me coming over yesterday?”

Damian could hear the hurt in Jon’s tone, “Yes, but it’s not what you’re thinking.  Jon, we hardly know each other.  I didn’t want it to be awkward for you.”

“Yeah, because this is any less awkward,” Jon interrupted.

Damian continued, “I didn’t want you to think you had to try to do something special just because I happened to be born fourteen years ago yesterday.  I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.  I…I wanted to get to know you a bit more before something like a birthday came into the picture.  I figured, if you came over after my birthday, we could get away without mentioning it.”

The pair was silent for a minute, thinking.  Jon finally broke the silence, “So, you were trying to make it easier on me?”

Damian sighed, “And on me.  I would be perfectly happy if my birthday was never mentioned again.”

Jon looked worried, “Why, though?  Did something happen?”

Damian eyed Jon for a long second before saying, “…Yes.”

“What happened,” Jon asked interestedly, “I mean, if you can tell me.”

Damian sighed again, “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone.  I think you know which ‘anyones’ I’m talking about.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed, “You’re talking about the team, right?  Why?”

_Why am I even considering telling Jon?  Why do I trust this child?_   “I don’t want to be the object of anyone’s pity, and it’s a painful memory that I prefer not to talk about.”

“If it’s going to hurt you, then…”

Damian interrupted Jon’s attempt to take back his request for information, “It has to do with why I live here.  I was raised by my mother.  She is the one who taught me all the stuff that you wanted me to teach the group.  I can’t tell you why she did it, though.  Father didn’t know I existed until I was ten, when Mother brought me to Gotham, to stay with Father for a while, while she dealt with a threat to…to where I used to live.  She didn’t come back for a long time.  The day she left me with Father was my tenth birthday.  My Mother abandoned me on my birthday.”

Jon’s eyes were wide and his jaw was hanging.  “I can see why you don’t like your birthday.”

Damian tried to hide his sniffle before saying, “It was the best thing she could have ever done for me, but it still hurts.”

Jon took a step closer, then hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry,” Jon said gently.

Normally, Damian would have been angry at the show of sympathy, but this time, he just wasn’t.  He took a deep breath, realizing that opening up, just a little, had brought him a little closer to his friend.

“Thank you.  I promise you, today won’t be all doom and gloom.”

Jon cracked a smile as he said, “Good.  I was hoping to have some fun.  What did you have planned for today?”

Damian had hoped Jon wouldn’t ask that question.  “Um, I don’t know.  I’ve never really done this before.  I was hoping you would know.”

Jon looked at Damian carefully, “You’ve never had friends over before?”

Damian looked down, unable to meet Jon’s gaze, “I’ve never had friends before.”

Jon felt a pang of sadness for the teen, but remembered what Damian has said about pity.  “You said you have a girlfriend, though.  Does she ever come over?”

Damian nodded, “When she’s in town.”

“Well, what do you do with her, when she comes over?”

Damian’s eyes snapped up to meet Jon’s inquisitive gaze.  He held back the remark that flew to the end of his tongue, but just barely.  _Relax, Damian.  Jon is just a kid.  He doesn’t know any better yet._

“Nothing that I’m going to do with you, unless you liked that kiss the other night more than you let on.”

Jon blushed a deep red, “Oh, right.  Let’s not do that.  On Thursday, you were talking about exploring the house.  Why don’t we do that?  A place this big must have some really neat stuff hidden in it.”

Damian smirked at the youth, “You mean, like, a secret superhero lair?”

Jon smiled, “Yeah!  We already know it has one of those.  Just imagine what other amazing things are here.”

Damian nodded with a good-natured smile.  _This kid’s eternal optimism is infectious.  It reminds me of being around Dick.  Maybe that’s why I wanted to try this._   “Okay, but remember, this place is probably bigger than you think it is.  Let’s go tell Father that you’re here, and where we’ll be.  He brought work home this weekend, so he probably won’t notice anything until mealtimes.”

Damian and Jon headed downstairs again.  Passing the dining room, Damian heard some suspiciously hushed voices.  Glancing into the room, Damian saw Dick and Jason sitting at the table, their heads leaned close together as they had a whispered conversation.

_Uh-oh.  What are those two planning?  Whatever it is, I bet it has to do with my visitor, and the fact that they like messing with me.  Maybe I can find a way to head off their pranks._

Damian stopped Jon outside of Bruce’s study and said quietly, “Let me see what kind of mood he’s in before you say anything.  Father’s working attitude can sometimes rival Batman’s.  Follow me in, follow my lead, but don’t say anything until he does, and if he’s on the phone, don’t say anything at all.”

Jon looked nervous, but nodded and shut his mouth as Damian gently eased the door open and stuck his head through the crack.  Damian pulled his head back into the hall and spoke quietly, “He’s on the phone, but said we can come in.  Stay quiet.  Don’t talk until he talks to us.”

Jon’s eyes widened as Damian opened the door of the study and slipped into the room silently.  Jon tiptoed into the room, looking around to make sure he wasn’t near anything that could possibly make a noise.

_I wish I could fly,_ Jon thought, _like Dad does.  I wouldn’t have to worry about making noise if I could just float._

Despite Damian’s warning, Bruce was smiling as the boys walked into the study.  _I like seeing Damian with a friend,_ Bruce thought, _his mood has completely changed from this morning._

Bruce spoke into the phone, “Look, John…John, will you just let me talk?”  Bruce looked over at the confused youth and mouthed _not you._   “John, you will have the contract on your desk first thing Monday morning.  My head of contracting will take care of it personally…Yes, we are still committed to this deal.  We’ve been committed to this deal since out first contract, eleven years ago…Right, John.”  Bruce’s look soured a bit, “You know, you’ve been throwing around that ‘taking your business to Lexcorp’ threat for years.  One of these days, I’m just going to tell you to do it.  I guarantee you, though, you won’t get as good a deal with them as you do with me…Right, John.  I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

Bruce sighed as he hung up the phone, “I swear, that man pulls this every year at contract renegotiation time.  If it wasn’t such a lucrative deal, I would drop them in an instant.”

Damian smirked, “Star Labs again?”

Bruce saw the smirk and let the ends of his lips hitch up just a bit, “Yes, them.  I really don’t know why I don’t just grow our R&D division and handle this work in-house.”

Damian cocked his head, “I thought you kept that contract to keep West employed?”

Bruce shrugged, “He’s a big boy now.  Wally can take care of himself.”

Bruce turned to Jon and smiled, “Hello, Jonathan.  Is everything alright?  Clark usually isn’t late like this.”

Jon looked confused, “Late?  I thought we agreed on ten-thirty.”

Bruce and Damian looked at each other, and Bruce said, “I could have sworn we agreed on ten.  Oh well.  Doesn’t matter now, you’re here.  What’s the plan for the day?”

Jon still looked a bit chagrined.  Damian said, “We’re going to look around the house, see if we can’t find something interesting.”

Bruce smiled, “Going exploring, huh?  Don’t get lost.”

Jon’s eyes widened dramatically, “You won’t get lost in your own home, will you, Damian?”

Damian was ready to deny it, but then thought again, “It’s been a long time since I got lost, but if it’s going to happen, inside this house is probably the most likely place.”

“We’ll send Titus to find you two before dinner,” Bruce said.

Jon looked confused, “Who’s Titus?  I thought that butler guy was Alfred?”

“Titus is my dog.”  Damian thought for a second, “If it wasn’t raining out, I know of something we could have done today.  Maybe if it clears up tomorrow…”

Jon was surprised by that statement, “It’s raining?  It wasn’t raining at home.”

Bruce nodded, politely dismissing the boys, “Well, have fun, you two.”

The boys headed for the door as Damian said, “We’ll try, Father.  Oh, maybe you should get Dick on that contracting issue now.  It looked like he and Jason were plotting something when we passed the dining room.”

Bruce sighed, “Thanks for the warning.”

Jon turned to Damian as he closed the door to the study after leaving the room, “What was that all about?”

“When we passed the dining room, I saw Jason and Dick, looking like they were planning something.  I think we need to be on our toes today.”

Jon’s eyes widened, “Really?  I didn’t even see a dining room.”  The younger boy took a breath, “So, where do we start?”

Damian looked around, “Here, I guess.  That was Father’s study, where he spends most of his time.  Father works from home a lot.  Did you want to go back to where we should have started, or just move on from here?”

Jon looked down the hall, back the way they came when originally heading for the study, “How far back would we have to go?”

Damian shrugged, “Just back to the stairs.”

Jon nodded, “That’s not too far.  Let’s go back.”

The pair headed back to the stairs, and Damian started the tour he had spent a day and a half planning.  “Up there is the residence wing.  You already had a bit of a look at that.  We can explore that later tonight.  There is actually a third floor above that one.  We can go up there, if you want, but later.”  Damian headed past the stairs, to a hallway that Jon thought he should recognize, “This hallway is just a bunch of empty rooms…I think.  The only real point of interest down there is the entrance to the cave, behind the grandfather clock.”

Jon gave a quiet, “Wow,” as Damian thought out loud, “Actually, I don’t know what, if anything, is in all those rooms.  I’ve never been in any of them before.  Hmm, maybe I should have checked those out earlier.  Anyway, should we continue?”

Jon shrugged, “It’s your house.  You lead the way.”

Damian turned around and walked towards the front sitting room, indicating the manor’s front door as they passed through the foyer.  “This is the most used, least used room in the house.”

Jon wrinkled his nose, “What does that mean?”

Damian walked over and rested a hand on the back of the couch, “If you asked any of us, we would all say we hate this room.  It’s just…here.  It doesn’t serve any special purpose, and it’s mostly intended for use during society parties.  However, it’s also a nice, quiet place to relax, it has the best view of the front grounds, from that bay window, and this is a surprisingly comfortable couch.  We end up here a lot more often than we want to admit.”

Jon nodded, “Cool.”

_Yeah, I guess it is,_ Damian thought.  “Next up is the dining room,” Damian said, leaving the front sitting room.

Jon’s jaw dropped at the next large space, “Are you sure you don’t live in a gallery?”

Damian didn’t respond.  He was more concerned at the lack of older brothers to be found in the dining space.  “Where did they go?”

“Who,” Jon asked.

“Dick and Jason.  I swear, they’re up to something.”

Damian didn’t stop in the dining room, and Jon had to hustle to not get left behind as Damian headed for the kitchen.

“This, of course, is the kitchen; and that, of course, is the Pennyworth.”

“The what,” Jon asked, trying not to laugh at the name.

Alfred turned from the sink, where he had been washing dishes, “Alfred Pennyworth, at your service, young Master Jonathan.”

Damian leaned over to speak softly in Jon’s ear, knowing that Alfred could still hear him, “No matter what else we see today, he is the most valuable thing in the house.”

“Come now, Master Damian,” Alfred said with a smile, “I believe you are overplaying my importance around here.”

“I’m not,” Damian said matter-of-factly.

Jon looked up at the butler, understanding now that his new friend was introducing him to someone very important to Damian.  “Hello, Mr. Pennyworth.”

Alfred nodded, “Hello, young sir.  Is it snack time already, Master Damian?”

Damian raised an eyebrow at Jon and asked, “You hungry?”

Jon shook his head, “No, thanks.  I can wait until lunch.”

Alfred smiled, “Very well.  If you need anything, please let me know.”

Alfred walked out of the kitchen as Jon looked around and said, “You know, your kitchen is bigger than my bedroom.”

Damian smiled, “It’s probably bigger than my bedroom, too.”

Damian led Jon out through the same door they had entered, into a short hall between the kitchen and dining room.  Damian turned one way, but Jon pointed the other direction and asked, “What’s down there?”

Damian stopped and turned, “The garage.  We could probably spend the whole day out there, but it’s a little cold today.”

“Could we take a look,” Jon asked hopefully.

Damian shrugged and walked to the door.  Opening the door to the garage, Damian said, “Have at it.”

“Whoa,” Jon exclaimed, gawking at the rows of cars dating back to the invention of the automobile.  “You’re right, we could spend all day in there.  Are you sure…”

Damian rolled his eyes as he interrupted, “Yes, I’m sure we don’t live in a gallery!”

Jon smiled as Damian closed the garage door and led him down a back hallway.  They stopped at the back door and looked through the glass window at the rain-soaked yard.

“Like I said, if it wasn’t raining, there’s something we could do out there, but since it’s raining…”

Jon nearly pressed his nose against the glass, “I don’t see a back fence.”

Damian smirked, “And here I thought you had Super Vision.  The back fence of the property is only three miles away.  You’re telling me you can’t see that far?”

Jon froze as he thought of what Damian had just said.  His head slowly turned to look at his friend as he asked softly, “Three _miles?_ That’s like…huge.”

_What’s wrong?  Jon looks…different.  Oh, I bet he’s not used to all this.  Good job, Damian.  You finally make a friend, only to scare him off with Father’s freakishly large mansion._

Damian sighed and led Jon away from the door.  He directed his friend into the den, where they sat on the couch for a minute.  Jon stared at his hands as Damian spoke softly, “Father’s family have been successful businessmen since before they came to America.  The ability to find successful business ventures seems to be a Wayne family genetic trait.  This house is over three hundred years old.  It’s been in Father’s family since before the United States was a thing.  I understand if this is all a little overwhelming, and I’m sorry if this is too much for you.  We don’t have to continue, if you don’t want to.”

The room was quiet for a minute, until Jon said softly, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Say what,” Damian asked, confused.

Jon glanced up, “ _Father’s_ family.  _Father’s_ house.  _Father’s_ business.  Isn’t it your family, too?”

Damian sighed, “I suppose it is, but…well, I guess I can tell you this.  I’ve only lived with Father for four years.  Sometimes, I feel like I’m the adopted one, and Dick is the real son.  I didn’t meet my father until I was ten years old.”

Jon eyed Damian, “Was this place as much of a surprise to you as it seems to be for me?”

The older boy shook his head, “No.  If anything, Mother’s home is bigger than this.”

“Your mother,” Jon asked, “I don’t think you’ve ever talked about her.”

Damian bit his lip as he took a deep breath, “No, and I don’t plan to.  She isn’t a good person, and she trained me to be just like her.  It’s taken years to start to break her brainwashing.”

Jon had so many more questions, but could tell by the look on Damian’s face that he wouldn’t get answers to any of them.

The boys were quiet for another minute before Jon looked around the room and asked, “So, what is this room?”

Damian was surprised by the question.  “You want to continue?”

Jon shrugged, “I’m here.  You obviously invited me over for a reason.”

Damian eyed his friend, “You aren’t going to ask about any of what I just said?  You don’t want to know more?”

“Of course I do, but I don’t like the look you had when talking about her.  I don’t want to make you angry, and I really don’t think you want to talk about your mother.”

Damian sighed, thankful for the understanding attitude.  “I don’t want to talk about her.  I’m sorry, it isn’t you.  It’s the whole situation.  The less said about my mother, the better.”

Jon nodded, “I can work with that.  So…this room?”

Damian smiled, breathing easier as the subject changed, “The den.  If the front sitting room is the most used, least used room in the house, then this one is the least used, most used room in the house.”

Jon looked like he was thinking hard about the description, “So, you all like this room, but don’t use it?”

Damian nodded, “Exactly.  This room was set up specifically for us to relax.  Too bad we don’t really relax that often.  That TV is a waste, too.  We read a lot, instead of watching television.  I don’t think I’ve been in this room in about six months.  That TV probably hasn’t been used in a month or so.”

Jon looked over at the large screen, “That _is_ a waste.  I don’t think I would leave this room.”

Damian smirked as he rose, beckoning Jon to follow him.  “Yes, you would.  I think you would like this room better.”

Damian led Jon next door to the game room.  Jon’s jaw dropped as he took in the large TV set up in front of a comfortable-looking couch.  “Is that one bigger than the one in the Rec Room at Mount Justice?”

Damian shook his head, “No.  It’s in a smaller room, which makes it look bigger.”

“It’s still big, though.”

“I think it’s a ninety-inch screen.”

Jon looked like his mind had stopped, “I didn’t know they made them that big.”

Damian eyed his friend, “Did you want to continue, or did you want to see what that TV could do with the Xbox?”

Jon looked very tempted, but said, “This tour just got really cool.  Let’s keep going.  We can always come back, right?”

Damian smiled, waving Jon towards the door, “Yeah, we can come back.”

Down the hall, Damian opened another door and said, “This is the civilian gym.”

“What does that mean,” Jon asked, wrinkling his nose.

“To give Father the excuse to have the body of Batman, we keep a room full of gym equipment.  The stuff we actually use is down in the cave.  I think Tim is the only one who uses this room.”

Jon was confused about who Tim was, but didn’t say anything.  Damian was unaware of the fact that Dick was the only one of Damian’s brothers Jon had met.  “If you don’t use it, then why keep it around?”

Damian shrugged, “Probably to fill one of our countless rooms.”

“Yeah, but still…that’s a lot of money.”

Damian asked, “Why do you wear glasses, when your eyes are perfectly fine, and will never require corrective lenses?”

“So I don’t look like Superboy when I’m Jon,” the younger boy replied.

Damian nodded, “Exactly.  How can my entire family look like body builders, without being spotted at a local gym?  This is how.”

Jon nodded slowly, “That actually makes sense, thanks.”

Damian matched the nod, “You want a waste of money, wait until you see the next room.”

Damian led Jon through the glass double doors that separated the rest of the house from the indoor pool.  Jon’s jaw dropped as he looked around the tiled, humid room.

“I’ve never seen this pool be used in the four years I’ve lived here.  We use the outdoor pool a lot during the summer, but I’ve only ever been in this room once.  Dick and I used the Jacuzzi once, but I don’t think anyone has actually used this pool in decades.”

Jon shook his head, “I don’t even know what to say to that.”

Damian nodded absently, looking around the room, “If it makes it any better, this pool was put in years before anyone currently living in the manor was born.”

Jon considered that fact, then shrugged, “I guess so.”

The boys left the pool, and Jon stopped in front of a hall they had passed earlier.  “What’s down there?  Why is there only one door in this hall?”

Damian looked down the hall, but didn’t enter the space, “That’s Alfred’s rooms.  Unfortunately, it’s probably the coolest place in the manor.”

Jon’s eyes widened, “OOOO…wait.  Why is that unfortunate?”

“Because we can’t go in there.”

Jon gasped, “Why not?”

“We weren’t invited,” Damian said simply.  “It would be rude to invade his privacy, and it would be just as rude to push for an invite.  I love Alfred, and I’m not going to risk our relationship to give you a glimpse of his private space.”

Jon smiled, “That’s okay.  I mean, I wouldn’t expect you to show me your dad’s bedroom, so your butler’s can remain private, too.”

Damian shrugged, “I can show you Father’s bedroom, but not Alfred’s.”

The boys returned to the hallway containing Bruce’s study, which Jon was happy that he recognized.  Damian smirked at him and asked, “Are you ready to do some real exploring?”

Jon looked at Damian in confusion, “What have we been doing so far?”

Damian shook his head, “These are the rooms we use all the time.  I’m talking about the rooms no one has seen in years.”

Jon grew a slow smirk of his own, “Yeah.”

Damian nodded and opened the door across the hall from Bruce’s study, “This is the Ballroom.  We mainly use it for society parties.”

“You have a ballroom,” Jon asked in wonder.

“That is, probably, my favorite piano in the house,” Damian said, pointing into the space while ignoring Jon’s statement.

Jon glanced over, “How many pianos do you have?”

“Uh, two, that I know of.  Who knows, we might find more today.”

Walking next door, Damian pointed into an open door while looking at Jon.  “This is the Manor’s library.”

Jon smirked, with a small giggle escaping the younger boy as he said, “No, it isn’t.”

Damian turned, confused, and found himself pointing at Tim, who was standing in the door of the library.

Damian dropped his arm back to his side, “Hello, Tim.”

“Going to introduce me to your friend,” Tim asked with a smirk.

Damian looked back and forth between Jon and Tim, “You two haven’t met before?”

Jon shook his head, “No.  I didn’t know you had brothers until today, remember?”

Damian cocked his head, “Really?  Huh.  Well, this is Tim, my third brother.”

Jon shook Tim’s hand, then eyed him as he whispered to Damian, “Is he, um…”

Tim smirked knowingly, “Are you?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Superboy, meet Red Robin.”

Jon smiled, “Cool.”

Tim turned to Damian, “Am I part of your tour, or am I just in the way?”

Damian shrugged, “You would have probably been part of it eventually.”

Tim nodded, “What are you showing him?”

“The parts of the house no one goes to.”

Tim cocked his head, “Why?”

Damian hesitated for a second, “…Because I haven’t seen them, either.”

Tim patted Damian on the shoulder, “Well, have fun.”

As Tim walked away, Damian turned and said, “Hey!  Jason and Dick looked like they were plotting something earlier.  You aren’t involved in whatever they’re planning, are you?”

Tim looked confused, and a bit scared, “They were plotting something?  Sorry boys, you’re on your own.  I’m not getting involved in that again.”

Jon tapped Damian on the shoulder as Tim walked away, “What does he mean by that?”

The boys started walking down the hall as Damian said, “We take everything seriously here, including pranks.  Last April Fool’s Day saw a week-long prank war that ended with Nightwing, Red Hood, and Red Robin swimming in a vat of mashed potatoes and gravy.”

Jon snorted a laugh, “Why did they do that?”

Damian gave an evil smile, “They never should have shaved my head.  They got what they deserved.”

Jon gasped, “They shaved your head?  How did you allow that?”

“I didn’t,” Damian said darkly, “They chloroformed me while I slept and did it in the middle of the night.”

Jon tried to hide that he was glancing back and forth at Damian’s head as they walked.  Finally, Damian sighed, “What?”

“I can’t imagine you bald.”

“It wasn’t a good look,” Damian grumbled.

They had been walking the whole time they had been talking, ignoring the closed doors they passed, until Damian stopped at a seemingly random door in a hall that Jon realized he would never be able to find again.

_I wasn’t paying attention, I don’t know where we are,_ Jon thought nervously.

Damian gave a soft smile, “This is my nest.”

“Your what,” Jon asked.

“Robin’s Nest.  I wanted a space where I could be alone.  I found a room that suited my needs, made a few improvements, and here…OW!”

Damian had reached for the door handle to enter the room.  It was too late to stop his forward momentum when he found that the door handle didn’t turn in his hand, and he ended up walking face first into the door.  Jon was turning red with the effort it required for him not to laugh, but he was unable to stop himself entirely.

Damian was rubbing his forehead as he snapped, “What the hell!”

“Why don’t you just unlock the door,” Jon said between chuckles.

“Because this door doesn’t _have_ a lock.”

Damian examined the handle closely.  It was similar to the handle he remembered, but very obviously not the same one.  “Someone changed the handle on this door.”

“Why don’t you pick it?”

“My lock picks are down in the cave,” Damian said dismissively.

“Do you want me to break it open,” Jon asked.

Damian shook his head, “No.  I’ll pick it later.  I want that lock in perfect condition, because it is going to end up on someone’s bedroom door.”

“That’s kinda mean, isn’t it,” Jon asked.

Damian turned and gave an evil smile to his guest.  “That’s what they get.  They started this.”

“Do you think this is what your brothers were plotting?”

Damian shook his head, “I think this is just step one.  We should be careful from here on out.”

A glint caught Damian’s eye, and he walked past Jon to the other side of the hallway.  Jon turned and gasped at what he saw.

“Why is there a surveillance camera in your hallway?”

“That one is mine.”  Damian pulled a bench over, stood on it, and jumped.  He was able to reach what he was looking at, a small camera mounted next to his own, and pulled the device down.  “This one, however, is not.”

Damian examined the device and saw a flashing light on the case.  Rolling his eyes, Damian pointed the lens at himself and said, “Not funny,” before pulling the battery from the camera and dropping it on the bench.

“Do you think they were watching,” Jon asked nervously.

Damian shook his head, “No, but it was recording.  I’m sure, if you asked nicely, you could see me go face first into that door again and again.”

Jon didn’t want to let on that he was considering it as he looked around the hall.  “This is a big hall.  What made you choose that room, out of all of these?”

Damian was moving the bench back to its original position, “Like I said, it suited my needs and personality.”

“You didn’t say personality before.”

Damian shrugged, “Well, it does.  That room used to be the family armory.”

Jon looked at Damian strangely, “Why would you keep your weapons up here?  Wouldn’t they be easier to get to down in the Batcave?”

It took Damian a second to realize what Jon was talking about.  “No, not the Bat family weapons; the Wayne family weapons.  We have stuff going back to the Middle Ages in there.”

Jon’s eyes widened, “Are you sure you don’t want me to break the lock?”

Damian smiled, hearing the eagerness in Jon’s voice, “We’ll be able to get in there later.  There is still plenty more house to see.”  Damian pointed across the hall, “I actually got most of the stuff, other than the weapons, from that office over there.”

Jon looked around again, “How did you even find all of this?  I think I would be too scared to explore all of this alone.”

Damian shrugged, “It’s not too bad.”

“Hey, I wasn’t paying attention when we were walking.  Are we near anything…or anyone?”

Damian didn’t quite catch the nervous waver in Jon’s tone, “No.  That’s why I chose this area of the house.  You could kill someone back here, and no one would ever hear the screams.”

Jon looked over warily, “It’s scary that you know that.”

“That I could get away with murder,” Damian asked.

“How loud someone screams when they die,” Jon replied.

Damian was speechless at the wary look Jon was sending him.  “How could you not tell us something like that,” Jon asked.

Again, Damian’s mouth worked up and down, with no sounds coming out.  “Don’t you think that is something we should know?”

“How did…”

“Jai told me,” Jon interrupted, “I don’t think he meant to, but he did.  Is it true?”

Damian sighed, meeting Jon’s eyes, “Yes.”

“You killed someone?”

Damian was not about to confess to more than he was being asked, no matter how often he had been admonished to tell the truth in his life.  “Yes.”

“And you didn’t think that was something your team should know about?”

Damian shook his head, “No, I didn’t.  I don’t talk about it.  It happened in another time…another me.”

That reply was confusing to Jon, but he didn’t ask about it.  “How did you keep this hidden from the Justice League?  They obviously don’t know, if they put you in charge of training us.”

Damian met Jon’s eyes again and said softly, “They know.  They know a lot more than I’m willing to go into right now.  I’m trying to change, and be a better person, Jon.  You might see the training group as me training all of you in how to be crime fighters.  What you don’t see is that the group is just as much all of you training me to be a better person.”

Jon was stunned into silence for half a minute.  He then said, “So, you just…don’t think about it?  How do you just forget something like that?”

Damian took a step closer to the youth, “You don’t.  You never forget it.  All you can do is figure out how to live with it; how to live with yourself.  It’s a daily process.”

The boys stared awkwardly at each other for a minute before Damian ventured, “You knew about that part of my past before you came here today.  You knew even before I invited you over.  If it scares you this much, why did you come?”

Jon looked away, “I guess it doesn’t really scare me.  I mean, Dad’s told me all along that I need to be careful with my strength, because I could…do that.  _That_ scares me.  You scare me too, sometimes, but, you know, not as much as you used to.  I came to make a friend.”

Damian gave a soft smile, “Well, friend, why don’t you try opening that office door right there?  The last door didn’t like me too much.”

Jon gave a good-natured smirk as he opened the door Damian had pointed out earlier.  This door opened with no problem.

“Are you sure it isn’t just you,” Jon joked about the ease of opening this door before walking into the room.

Damian was rolling his eyes as Jon let out a high-pitched scream of terror.  Damian rushed into the room and nearly ran over the younger boy, who was standing one step inside the office, shaking in fear.  Damian scanned the room, instantly finding what had scared Jon.

Behind the desk that dominated the room sat a skeleton, wearing a scraggly, gray wig, brown suit, and holding an old-fashioned stick phone.

“Is…is that how you k-know you can get away with m-m-murder back here?”

Jon’s tone was both hurt and scared, and Damian didn’t like it one bit.  “I didn’t do this, Jon.”

“Then why did you want me to come in here,” Jon sniffled.

“Because this room is where I got most of the furniture for my Nest, and this office has a really great view of the back courtyard.”

Damian took a closer look at the skeleton before walking closer.  He tapped the skull, then rolled his eyes heavily at the hollow _thunk_ sound.  “It’s plastic.”

“What,” Jon asked, walking to stand next to Damian.

“It’s a Halloween decoration,” Damian groaned, “Look, it even still has the tag on it.”  Damian sighed, “This must be what Dick and Jason were plotting.”

Jon matched Damian’s sigh, “Why would they do this?”

“Because Dick thinks he’s funny, and Jason likes to mess with people.”

Jon turned to Damian, “So, this is it, then?”

Damian shook his head, “Don’t count on it.  If this is their theme, you can bet there are more things like this spread all over the house.”

Jon didn’t like the prospect, “Okay, but you’re opening the doors from here on out.”

Jon made the right choice, as a spring-loaded rubber bat struck Damian in the face when he opened the door next to the office.  It was a door that Damian had never opened before, and if that was the greeting he was going to get, it was a door that he would never open again.

Heading for a Conservatory that Damian was familiar with, Damian was hoping his guest was enjoying himself.  _All in all, I would say this isn’t going as well as I hoped.  Damn Dick and Jason.  This is hard enough without them making it harder._

Jon gasped again as they entered the glass-walled room, and Damian rolled his eyes hard.  Instead of the hanging flower baskets, which Damian had been considering trying to use in his spare time, four hanging, wrought iron torture cages were hung from the ceiling, with more plastic skeletons inside.

Damian shook his head, “You know, let’s get out of this section of the house.  I’m pretty sure they targeted this area because my Nest is near here.”

Jon nodded, “That sounds good.  Your brothers seem to, um, enjoy their pranks.”

“They do; I don’t.”  Damian took a deep breath, “They are dedicated to screwing around.  I love my brothers, but they take their jokes too far, sometimes.”

The boys walked through a long hallway, with one wall made up of floor-to-ceiling windows looking out on the North woods.

“Wow,” Jon said softly, “Have you ever explored that forest?”

Damian shook his head, “No.  To be honest, I don’t go outside too often.”

The boys stopped as Jon nearly pressed his nose against the glass again.  “Why not?  I mean, it’s your forest, right?”

Damian smiled, thinking of the Lion King, “Yes, that forest is Wayne family property.  I just…I’m not much of an outdoors person.”

Jon looked at Damian for a minute before shrugging and saying, “I can see that.”

“Living in Metropolis can’t give you too many outdoor opportunities,” Damian said as they moved on.

“Not really.  I think that’s why Dad still holds on to the farm.”

Damian stopped in his tracks, “The farm?  What farm?”

“The farm where my Dad grew up,” Jon smiled, “Did I actually just tell you something you didn’t know?”

Damian nodded, “I’ll have to get on Father to update his files.”

Jon’s smile dimmed a bit, but regained itself as he thought of his summer home, “We spend part of our summers on the farm in Kansas.  It’s not, like, a working farm; not anymore, at least.  We just clean it up and make it livable.  We let the neighbors use the fields and keep the crops in exchange for watching the place when we’re not there.”  Jon gasped, “You should totally come out with us next summer.”

Damian looked like he was considering it, “I’ve never been to Kansas before.  I guess we can try it.  We’ll ask Father later.”

Jon couldn’t quite tell, but Damian was desperately trying to hide his excitement.  He didn’t really care about seeing Kansas.  He recognized that he had just taken the next step in maintaining a normal friendship.

The two youths stopped at the foot of a staircase, and Jon asked, “More stairs?  What’s up there?”

Damian smiled as they walked upstairs, “This is my area.”

Jon looked confused, “I thought your Nest was your area.”

“That is, too, but Father gave me this.”

The boys found themselves on a landing with only two doors.  Damian pointed to each of them, “That door on the left is a bathroom, but the one on the right is my Music Room.”

Damian pushed the door open with a big smile on his face, which instantly disappeared when he saw what had been done to the room.  “Oh, come on!  This isn’t funny anymore!”

Jon disagreed, as he looked past Damian, into the room.  Three more of the plastic skeletons had been set up in the Music Room; one sitting at the piano, one with the cello leaning against its leg, and the third holding Damian’s guitar.

Jon did his best to stifle a giggle, “I don’t know.  I think this one is funnier than the one in the office.”

Damian walked further into the room before giving a shiver.  “What is it,” Jon asked.

“I walked through a draft.”  Damian looked around before pointing to an upper window.  “There.  We have a broken window pane.”

“Your brothers broke a window,” Jon asked.

Damian took a closer look, “No.  Look, the broken glass is on the inside.  Something hit the window from the outside.”

Damian pulled his cell phone from his pocket and selected a speed dial number.  Alfred answered on the second ring, “Master Damian, if you are calling to ask for snacks, you and Master Jonathan can come to the kitchen and get them yourselves.”

Damian smiled, “No, we aren’t asking for snacks.  I have two questions.  First, are you involved in these pranks?”

“What pranks,” Alfred asked darkly.

“You know nothing of what was left for Jon and I to find today?”

“You know how I feel about your brother’s pranks, Master Damian,” Alfred said.

Damian was quiet for a second before he reluctantly said, “Okay, Alfred.  I believe you.”

“What have they done?”

“I’ll leave it set up for when you come to this part of the house.”

Alfred sighed, “Very well, Master Damian.  What is your second question?”

Damian looked around again, “Not so much a question as to inform you of something.  Jon and I are in the Music Room and we found a broken window.  I think a bird must have flown into it.”

“Oh.  Well, I’ll have to take a look at it,” Alfred said.  “Thank you for letting me know.”

Damian and Jon left the Music Room and headed back down the stairs.  At the bottom, they turned left, into uncharted territory.  Damian had never gone down this particular hallway.

Jon spoke to him as they walked, “Your Dad really put that whole room together, just for you?”

Damian shook his head as he opened the door on an empty storage closet, “No.  Father’s Father did it as a wedding present for Father’s Mother.  No one else in the family plays a musical instrument, so he gave it to me.”

“What do you play,” Jon asked.

Damian stopped, “Everything you just saw in that room.  I’m better at some than others, but I can play them all.”

Damian was looking around the hall suspiciously.  Jon spoke in a hushed tone, “What is it?”

Damian motioned for Jon to speak more quietly, “Don’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

Damian’s eyes scanned the hall, “It feels like someone is here.  I don’t think we’re alone in this part of the house.”

Jon took an involuntary step closer to his friend as they walked slowly down the hall.  The strange feeling that was throwing Damian off was heat.  The heater in this part of the house had been turned on, leaving this section warmer than the other parts of the house the boys had been exploring.  If Damian wasn’t looking for more sinister motives, like he expected of his brothers, he might have realized this simple atmospheric trick.

The boys walked into a large room, and their jaws dropped.  Jon’s jaw dropped in amazement, while Damian’s fell in suspicion.

Jon smiled as he asked, “You guys have _two_ kitchens?”

Damian shook his head slowly at what he was seeing, “I guess so.  I’ve never been to this part of the house before.  I didn’t think anyone else had, either.”

“What do you mean?”

Damian pointed at the sink.  Jon looked closer and saw a cup sitting behind the faucet.  A _plastic_ cup.  Damian took a look at and in several of the appliances before he pulled out his cell phone again and set it to speakerphone after dialing a number.

“Bruce Wayne,” came the response from the speaker.

“Father, I need to know something.”

Bruce sounded confused, “Damian?  Why are you calling on my office line?  Is everything alright?”

Damian was still looking around the kitchen as he said, “I didn’t think you would answer your cell phone while working.”

Bruce shrugged, “You’re probably right.  What’s going on?”

Damian met Jon’s eyes before asking, “Father, are we the only ones who live in the house?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does anyone else live here, that we don’t know about?”

The question confused Bruce, “Not that I know of.  Why do you ask?”

Damian walked back towards the sink, “Did you know that there is another kitchen on the North side of the house?”

“Yes, I did,” Bruce said evenly.

That surprised Damian, “You did?”

A smile grew on Bruce’s face, “I guess it’s time for a little family history, isn’t it?  Do you want Jon to hear this, too?”

Jon spoke up, “I can hear, Mr. Wayne.  Damian has his phone on speaker.”

Bruce’s smile grew.  _He’s sharing with his friend.  I’m proud of him._   “Okay.  The first thing you should know is that, when Wayne Manor was built, it was half the size it is now.  The North Wing, where you are now, was all of the house.  The Southern Wing, where we live, was built in the 1830’s, when three generations of Wayne’s living under one roof got a little crowded.  The glass hallway on the way to your Music Room leads past the old divide.  Your great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather moved to the South wing after he got married.  I might have missed a great or two in there, but you get the idea.  His parents stayed in the North Wing, and when they passed away, the family continued to live in the South Wing.  It’s been that way ever since.  Why do you ask if there are people living up there?”

Jon was fascinated by the story, but Damian got right down to business, “We’re in the old kitchen, and there are signs that it has been used a lot more recently than the 1830’s.”

“Like what,” Bruce asked, intrigued.

“There is a drinking glass on the counter, behind the sink.”

“And?”

Damian picked it up, “It’s plastic, a material that wasn’t invented until at least the 1950’s.”

Bruce said, “Okay, that’s one hundred-twenty years closer to us.  What else do you have?”

Damian turned to another appliance, “There are dirty dishes in the dishwasher.  The fact that there even _is_ a dishwasher in this kitchen is strange enough.”

Jon looked at the dishwasher, amazed that Damian had figured out something like that.

“Hmm,” Bruce said, “Anything else out of the ordinary?”

Damian walked across the kitchen again, “There is a refrigerator here.  It can’t be more than a couple years old.  It’s plugged in, turned on, and there is food inside.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “What?”

Damian continued, “It’s new food, too.  Nothing smells old, all the packaging is recent, and the milk…the expiration date is next week.”

Bruce thought for a second, “Okay.  Let me make a couple inquiries, and I’ll get back to you.  Don’t do anything until you hear from me, okay?”

“Okay, Father.”  Damian sighed as he hung up the phone.

“Now what,” Jon asked.

Damian shrugged, looking around warily, “I’m not sure.  I don’t really want to move on until we know if we’re really alone here.”

Jon’s stomach started grumbling, and Damian checked the time on his phone.  _Oh, we missed lunch.  I didn’t realize we had been back here so long.  We should probably head back._

Before Damian could suggest stopping for lunch, his phone rang again.  “Hello?”

“No one else is living here,” Bruce said over the line, “It was another one of your brother’s practical jokes.”

Damian was surprised, “He told you that already?  It’s only been a couple minutes, how did you break him so fast?”

Damian could sense Bruce’s smile, “When I told Dick you were going to call the police and report possible squatters, he caved pretty quickly.”

_I never said I was going to call the police.  Well played, Father._   “So, the food and the dishes?”

“Were taken from our kitchen this morning.”

Damian nodded, “And the skeletons?”

“A joke,” Bruce said.

“A joke my guest didn’t find funny,” Damian grumbled.

“Will we see you two for dinner?  You two missed lunch.”

Damian’s own stomach started grumbling, “Yes, I just realized that.  They left us food, we’ll be alright.”

Bruce smiled again, “You two have fun.”

Damian opened his mouth to give the standard reply of _we will,_ but then thought better of it, and said, “We are, Father.”

Damian put his phone back in his pocket as he walked over to the refrigerator.  Jon looked confused as Damian pulled out some fruit and string cheese.  “What are you doing,” Jon asked.

“This was all a set-up,” Damian said, biting into an apple, “Dick and Jason worked overtime on pranking us.”

Jon unwrapped a string cheese and asked, “So, no one else lives here, after all?”

Damian shook his head, “Nope.”

Jon smiled, “That’s good to know.  So, what’s next, after our snack, I mean?”

Damian waited until he swallowed before saying, “Eat up, we missed lunch.  We’ve been wandering around back here for almost four hours.”

Jon’s eyes widened, “Really?”  Damian nodded.  “Doesn’t feel like it,” Jon said.

Damian met Jon’s eyes for a second before a soft smile crossed his face.  “I’m having a good time, too, Jon,” Damian said softly.

Jon’s smile grew as the boys continued their snack.

After Damian cleaned up the second kitchen, and the boys walked out of the kitchen, Damian’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

Damian looked at the screen and gasped, “Jon, I have to take this.  Sorry, but it’s my girlfriend.  I’ll try to keep it short.”

Damian pressed the phone to his ear, “Hello?”

“Why did you do this,” came the stern response from the other side of the country.

“Why did I…”

“Why did you send me flowers,” Robin interrupted, “You didn’t do anything wrong, but now you’re apologizing?  You’re making me think you did more than you and Karen let on.”

“You don’t think I did anything wrong,” Damian asked.

Robin sighed, “I didn’t, until you apologized.  You never apologize for anything, unless you actually did something.  That’s just your nature.  I just needed to vent, but now I really want to know what happened.”

Damian sighed, “Can I actually talk this time?  This morning, you wouldn’t even let me breathe, much less talk.”

Robin gave an unseen, small smile, “Yes.  You need to explain yourself.”

Damian took a deep breath, “Okay, as you know, my family is a highly-sought commodity on the Gotham Social Register.  I met Karen’s grandmother at the gallery.  It was a society function, I had to be polite.  Her grandmother is almost blind, and I stopped her from accidentally destroying an art installation.  She asked me to walk her to the restroom, and we ran into Karen there.  Yes, we talked for a couple minutes; mostly about how her grandmother is always trying to set her up on dates.  She asked me out, and I said no.  She gave me her phone number; I didn’t ask for it, and I didn’t give her mine.  I threw out the number when I got home, and forgot about the whole incident, until you called and yelled at me this morning.”

“Is that all that happened,” Robin asked after a minute of silence.

“Yes,” Damian said desperately.

“Then why the flowers,” Robin asked, just as desperately.

Damian sighed again, “Because, whether I did anything or not, something I did made you upset, and that is never okay.  You can trust me, Robin.  I’m not going to do anything to risk losing you.  I love you, and the flowers are just a little reminder of that.  The last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

“But, you don’t apologize, unless you did something wrong,” Robin said again.

“No, I don’t,” Damian said.  “I’m also new at relationships.  You’re my first, remember?  I asked Father for advice.  He said it wouldn’t be a bad idea to do something to let you know that I’m sorry for hurting you, even, and especially, if I didn’t know I was doing it.”

The line was silent for a minute, but Damian could hear the smile slowly forming on Robin’s face.  “Well, I guess it’s okay if you send me flowers.  However, from now on, only apologize when you actually have something to apologize for.”

Damian smiled, “I promise, you will never hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ out of me again.”

“Well…let’s not go that far.  Only use them when they’re actually needed.”

Damian’s smile flattened a bit, “Only if you promise to at least hear my side of the story in the future.  I don’t mind you yelling at me, but only if I actually deserve it.”

“Can we Skype,” Robin asked with a sigh, “I want to see you.”

Damian matched the sigh, “Can we do it later?  I, um, have a friend over.”

Robin gasped, “You have a friend over?  Why didn’t you say so?  Who is it?”

Damian was surprised that Robin didn’t stop her question at ‘You have a friend’.  “Jon.”

Robin thought for a second, “I know that name.  Is he from your group…team…whatever they are?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Which one is he?”

Jon was staring at Damian curiously as Damian tried to find a way to explain Superboy over a civilian line, “He’s the one from Metropolis.”

Robin was thinking hard, and Damian could hear the lightbulb go on from four thousand miles away, “Oh, okay.  Well, you two have fun.  Don’t forget to Skype me before you go to bed.”

Damian smiled, “Of course, Beautiful.”

Damian hung up his phone, and Jon could honestly say he had never seen Damian look so genuinely happy.  “You told your girlfriend about the team,” Jon asked.

Damian nodded, “I don’t keep secrets from her.”

“She knows that you’re Robin?”

“She does.”

Jon smiled, “And, you said her name was Robin?”

“Yes, it is.”

Jon smiled as Damian’s phone vibrated in his pocket, “That could get confusing, couldn’t it?”

Damian shrugged as he checked the text message from Robin, “It hasn’t so far.  Smile.”

Jon gave a goofy, lopsided grin as Damian took the youth’s picture.  “Robin wants to see what you look like.  I think she wants to see that you are actually Jon, and not Joan.”  Damian looked up at Jon, “Is that okay; that I send her a picture of you?”

Jon shrugged, “Sure.  Can I see a picture of her?”

Damian sent the picture, then pulled up a relatively safe picture of Robin.  Jon stared at the blonde girl for several seconds before saying, “She’s pretty.”

Damian looked at the picture, thinking of the snapshots that he couldn’t show to a ten-year old, “Yes, she is.  Smile again.”

Damian moved to stand next to Jon, held out his phone, and took another picture of the both of them.  Showing it to Jon, Damian said, “I think Robin will like this one better.”

Damian sent the picture to his girlfriend as Jon pulled out his phone and asked nervously, “Um, can I take one of us, too?”

Damian considered Jon for a second before saying, “Of course.  It’s only fair.  Just please, don’t post it to the internet.  I, um, I have a thing about that.”

Jon took a picture matching the one Damian had just took and said, “No, I just want to send it to my Mom.  Is that okay?”

Damian smiled softly, “That’s okay.”

With their photo session done and their phones put away, Jon asked, “What’s next?”

Damian cocked his head, “Let’s try to find the front door.  There has to be one around here somewhere.”

Walking away from the kitchen, the boys found a dining room, roughly half the size of the formal dining room in the south wing of the house.  The table and chairs sat ready, if dusty, for a meal that would probably never come.

Leaving the dining room, the youths rounded a corner and found themselves in a large foyer.  The front door Damian had been wondering about stood at the far end.  Two rooms branched off to the left, while a hallway and a staircase were on the right.

Damian and Jon walked over to the door, and Damian inspected the portal.  After a minute of mumbling and grumbling, mostly under his breath, Damian reached out and opened the door.  The hinges were rusty, and creaked loudly, but the door opened with just a little force from the teen.

The boys walked out onto the old front porch, and Damian shook his head, “No.  This won’t do.  This isn’t good at all.”

“What’s wrong,” Jon asked.

Damian pointed at the door, “This door.  There’s no alarm, no lock; just an old latch.  That’s not secure at all.  How could Father install a state of the art security system in the south part of the house, and leave an essentially open door here?”

“Maybe he forgot it was here,” Jon suggested, shrugging.

“I’ll have to let him know about this later.”

Jon shivered, surprising Damian, “Let’s go back inside; it’s cold out here.  That rain doesn’t look like it’s going to let up anytime soon.”

Damian nodded, and the pair went back inside.

Jon looked around the foyer and asked, “What do you think is upstairs?”

The older boy regarded the staircase, “More bedrooms, I’m sure.  Knowing Dick and Jason, there is probably a skeleton in each bed.”

“You’re probably right,” Jon said.

The two boys instead walked into a sitting room that nearly matched the one on the other side of the house.

“Hmm,” Damian said, “Maybe Alfred didn’t decorate the sitting room, after all.”

Jon was inspecting an unfamiliar piece of furniture, “Hey, check out this weird desk.”

Damian walked over with a small smile on his face, “That’s not a desk.  That is a Harpsichord.”

“A Whats-a-cord?”

Damian lifted a cover to reveal a keyboard, “A Harpsichord.  It’s an old musical instrument.  I wonder if I can get this working.”

Damian started messing with the instrument as Jon asked, “What does it sound like?”

“You’ve heard a harpsichord before,” Damian said.

“Are you sure,” Jon asked with a smile, “How would you know if I’ve ever heard one?”

Damian pressed a key and heard a tone, bringing a smile to his face.  He then sat down on the bench and tapped out the Addams Family theme song.

Jon giggled, “I guess I _had_ heard a Whats-a-cord before.”

“If you hadn’t, you have now,” Damian said, still looking at the instrument, “I wonder if I can move this to the music room.”

Deciding to figure that out later, Jon and Damian left the sitting room to walk to the next room off of the foyer, when they both thought they walked into the Twilight Zone.

The boys stood in the doorway of the new room, staring at it dumbly.  “Hey, Damian?”

“Yeah, Jon?”

“We _did_ leave the last room, right?”

Damian looked back into the hall, to see that they had, in fact, left one room for another, “Yeah, we did.”

Jon blinked a couple times, “Then, you have two rooms that are decorated exactly the same?”

Damian shrugged, “Right down to the Harpsichord, apparently.”

The boys entered the room cautiously and looked around for a bit, before Damian sighed and rolled his eyes in frustration at himself.  “We could have two rooms decorated exactly the same, or one large room with two doors leading off the hallway.”

Damian turned Jon around to look at the wall, and the youth blushed in embarrassment.  “Oh,” he said meekly, “I guess we should have noticed the second door when we were in here the first time.”

Damian was blushing as well, no matter how much he tried not to, “In our defense, the second door was closed when we walked through the first time.”

Jon smiled, “Yeah.  That sounds good to me.”

The kids looked at each other silently for a minute before Damian said, “Let’s never speak of this again.”

“Agreed,” Jon said with a nod.

The boys left the sitting room and returned to the foyer.  Jon looked around before saying, “Well, if we aren’t going to look at the bedrooms, that just leaves the long, dark, spooky hallway.”

Jon and Damian stood at the end of the hallway, and Damian had to agree with the description.  “I don’t see any lights in this hall,” Damian said.

“There are no windows, either.  At least, none that I can see,” Jon said.

Damian shrugged, pulling out his phone and activating the flashlight function.  Jon did the same with his phone, and they entered the hallway.

Whether it was out of fear or curiosity, the boys moved slower than they might normally have moved.  Also, they were ignoring the doors on either side of the hall, just trying to get to the other end.

They finally had to open a door, as the hallway dead-ended at a door.  Silently, like the boys had been for the past ten minutes, Damian opened the door.  He was surprised that it was unlocked and opened easily, but confused when the door led to another hallway.

Closing the door behind them, Damian said softly, “We must be in the south wing now.  That door must be part of the old divide.”  Jon didn’t speak as they continued on.

Coming around a corner, the third they had traversed in this hall, the ambient lighting increased, and the boys could see a suit of armor and a grandfather clock in the hall.

“Wait a minute,” Damian said, having a sneaking suspicion of their location.

The youths hurried down the hall and found themselves standing in the grand foyer of the south wing of the house.

“Isn’t that the front door,” Jon asked.

Damian nodded, “Yes.  I guess we figured out where this hallway goes.”

Alfred walked down the main staircase and smiled at the boys, “Make any more discoveries, young sirs?”

Damian turned and smiled at the butler, “Yes.  This house is terribly easy to break into.  Did you know that the old front door of the north wing doesn’t even have a lock on it?”

Alfred nodded, “Of course.  How else do you think Master Jason was able to sneak into and out of the house as a child?”

Damian looked up strangely, “Does Father know?”

Alfred leaned in closer to the two youths, “You didn’t hear it from me, but there is an infrared camera trained on the old entrance.  Has been for almost twenty-five years.”

“So, Father was watching everything we just did?”

Alfred glanced down his nose at the teen, “Were you doing anything you don’t want your Father to see?”

Damian and Jon glanced at each other, thinking about their episode in the sitting room, “No.  Just makes me wonder about the rest of the house.”

Alfred gave a suspicious smile, “Are you two through exploring for the day?  Dinner is in two hours.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed, “You’re not going to answer my question?”

“I didn’t hear a question asked, Master Damian,” Alfred said innocently.

Jon giggled, and Damian decided to let it go, for now.  “I guess we’re done, for now.”

“Very good, young sir.”

Alfred walked away, and Jon gave another giggle, “He’s fun.  What are we doing now?”

Damian looked back at the younger boy, “How about we give the game room another look?”

Jon gave a large smile, “You’re on.”

_Midnight…_

“Damian?  Damian?”

Damian was jerked out of a sound sleep, confused to his surroundings, and whose hissed whisper might have woken him up.  Damian sat up with a gasp, his eyes wide but not really taking in his surroundings.  He pulled a knife from under his pillow and brandished it at Jon, who took a nervous step away from the bed.

Damian quickly dropped the knife, “Jon, I’m sorry.  You startled me.”

Jon was still cringing back as he said, “S-sorry.  I just…never mind.”

Jon started heading for the door when Damian said, “Jon, wait.  You came here for a reason.  What is it?”

Jon stopped, his fear of Damian at war with the other fear that had brought him to his host in the middle of the night.  Finally, he sighed and turned around, “I, um…it’s your house.  It’s really big, and old, and makes weird noises.  I…I’m scared.”

Damian gave a soft smile, “I can understand that, and before you apologize, don’t.  Remember, it was only a few years ago when I spent my first night in this house.  I was your age when I first came here.  I’m used to it now, but I agree with you about the strange noises.”

Jon let out a relieved breath, “I didn’t just insult your home, did I?”

Damian’s smile grew a bit, “Of course not.”

Jon started looking a bit nervous, “Well, um, can…can I sleep in here?  The other room just feels so big, and empty, and weird.  I can just get my pillow and a blanket and sleep on the floor.”

Damian shook his head, “Jon, no.  You’re not going to sleep on the floor.  Get your pillow, you can sleep in the bed.”

Jon held his pillow up, which he had been squeezing to try to relieve his nerves, “Where are you going to sleep?”

“The bed is plenty big enough for two.  I’ll sleep right here.”

Jon started to climb into the bed when he asked, “Is this okay?”

Damian laid back down on his side, facing away from Jon, “I think Father will object far less to you being in my bed as he did over the last person to sleep in here with me.”

“Who was that,” Jon asked.

“My girlfriend,” Damian replied with a yawn.

Jon’s eyes widened, “Did you get in trouble for that?”

“No.  As long as we’re being responsible, Father doesn’t care.  That’s why I know it’s okay for you to sleep here.  Good night.”

The boys quieted down, until Jon asked, “Why do you sleep with a knife under your pillow?”

Damian was almost asleep as he mumbled, “Because, where I come from, you need to be able to defend yourself at any time.  Don’t worry, it’s not a real knife.  It’s just a hard rubber trainer.”

Jon wondered just how much damage Damian could do with the trainer, then didn’t want to think about the answer, “Why a fake knife?”

“I kept cutting myself on the real ones.  Alfred kept having to change my sheets almost daily, because I was bleeding on them.  I was not-so-subtly encouraged to find something safer.”

Jon nodded as he pulled the blankets up to his neck.  “Good night, Damian; and thanks.”

Damian was already asleep and snoring.

_The Next Morning…_

Jon gave a soft, mewling yawn and stretched expansively as he woke for the day.  He let his arms fall back to the bed, then cringed as one arm hit bed, and the other hit boy.

He expected Damian to snap at him for waking him up.  Instead, Damian just yawned and said, “Good morning, Jon.”

“Morning, Damian.”

“Was it better, sleeping in here instead of the guest room?”

Jon smiled, “Much better.  Thanks.”

“Good,” Damian said, sitting up, “Let’s get dressed for breakfast.”

Dressed and hungry, the boys stopped dead in their tracks as they entered the dining room.  Their jaws were hanging as Bruce spoke from the head of the table, “Damian, I’m appalled!  Come on, this is Sunday morning.”

Damian stared dumbly at his father and brothers, all sitting at the table wearing suits.  “Are you all going to work today?”

“You know better than this, Damian,” Bruce said, “It’s Sunday morning breakfast.”

“And you’re not usually out of your pajamas until after noon on Sundays.”

Alfred walked in from the kitchen, and Damian nearly passed out.  Alfred was wearing silk pajamas, slippers, and a maroon dressing gown.

“Are you feeling alright, Alfred?”

“Of course, Master Damian.  This is all just an ordinary Sunday morning in the Wayne household.”

Damian was thinking that this was anything but ordinary, “This is all your doing, isn’t it?  Haven’t you always said you don’t like pranks?”

Alfred smirked, “Some are better than others.”

“You told me I didn’t need a suit for Sunday breakfast,” Jon said softly to the butler.

“You don’t,” Damian said forcefully, “This is just another one of their pranks.”

Jason spoke up, “Speaking of pranks, did you enjoy learning all of the family’s dark secrets yesterday?”

Bruce looked over, “Did you expose all of the skeletons in our closets, Damian?”

Damian shook his head, “Don’t put it that way, Father.  Knowing these two, they will actually put a skeleton in your closet.”  Damian turned back to Jason, “You managed to scare the son of Superman.  How do you think Superman will react to that?”

“How do you think I’ll react to what?”

Damian and Jon turned to the new voice in shock.  Walking into the dining room were Lois and Clark, wearing an evening gown and a suit, respectively.

Damian couldn’t form words, but Jon could, “Mom?  Dad?  What are you doing here?”

Lois smiled at her son, “We couldn’t turn down an invitation for breakfast at Wayne Manor.”

Bruce smiled, “It’s just a joke, boys, but your looks were priceless.  Have a seat.”

Lois smiled as she hugged Jon and they sat down, “I have to say, I’m looking forward to this.  I don’t think I’ve had one of Alfred’s legendary meals before.”

Damian gave a smirk that his brothers had a hard time not calling him on, “Well, then, you’re in luck.  Sunday mornings usually consist of Alfred’s best cooking.”

Lois smiled at Clark, “Then this should be good.”

Damian’s smirk grew, “Yes.  Alfred can prepare the best bowl of Corn Flakes you’ve ever had.”

_After Breakfast…_

Following breakfast, as Bruce, Clark, and Lois relaxed in the sitting room with a cup of coffee, and the older boys went to change out of their suits, Jon approached his dad almost nervously.

Clark smiled at the boy and asked, “What’s up, Jonno?”

“We don’t have to leave yet, do we, Dad?”

Clark smiled, “Having fun?”

Jon smiled back, “Well, yeah.”

“Why do you ask?”

Jon looked at Bruce, then back at Clark, “Damian said he wanted to show me something outside when it stopped raining.  It stopped raining overnight, but if we have to leave…”

Jon trailed off and Clark gave a large smile, “Go for it, pal.  We at least have to finish our coffee.”

Jon’s large smile banished his nerves, and he said, “Thanks, Dad,” before rushing out of the sitting room.

Jon and Damian trooped across the glistening lawns behind Wayne Manor.  Damian hadn’t said anything beyond going for a walk to show Jon something he would like.

They reached the edge of the maintained sections of the grounds, and Jon finally asked, “Where are we going?  I know I said I couldn’t see the back fence, but I’m not sure I want to walk all the way out there.”

Damian smiled as they stopped, “We aren’t going that far.”

Damian turned back to the house, stuck two fingers in his mouth, and gave the loudest whistle Jon had heard in a long time.  Jon nearly jumped out of his shoes in surprise, but didn’t know if he should ask about the loud whistle, or the large smile on the older boy’s face.

It turns out that Jon didn’t have to ask about the smile.  Coming pelting out of the shadow of the house was a large, gray dog.  The dog stopped at the last possible second before running the boys over, reared up on its hind legs, rested its paws on Damian’s shoulders, and proceeded to lick the teen’s face.  Jon had to hold his laugh when he saw that, when standing on its hind legs, the dog was taller than Damian.

Damian scratched behind the both of the dog’s ears before turning the large head to look at Jon.  “Titus, this is Jon.  Jon, this is my dog, Titus.”

Titus got down off of Damian’s shoulders and hesitantly sniffed at Jon’s hand before giving it two small licks.  Jon looked back up at Damian and asked, “We had to come all the way out here to play with your dog?”

Damian shook his head, “No.  He always likes to run around out here after a rain storm.  We have to keep him inside in the rain, and he gets cabin fever.”

“So, where are we going?”

Damian smirked, “You’ll see.”

As they walked, Jon couldn’t help noticing that Titus walked between himself and Damian, almost like he was protecting Damian.  Jon looked up to see a fenced-off area in the distance.

“What’s that?”

Damian said, “Those are the old Wayne Family Stables.”

“Horses,” Jon inquired.

Damian rolled his eyes and said sarcastically, “No, we used to raise Velociraptors.  Of course it was horses.”

Jon’s tone was a little cowed, “Sorry.  With everything you’ve shown me, I just thought I’d ask.”

Damian eyed Jon for a second, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.  Actually, with what we’re going to see, you had every right to ask.”

The boys stopped at the fence, and Jon’s eyes widened at what he saw.  “That’s definitely not a horse.”

Damian smirked, “It’s not a Velociraptor, either.”

“Why do you have a cow?”

Damian looked fondly at the animal and said, “A mission as Batman and Robin had us chasing a suspect through a slaughterhouse.  I slipped in the blood and found myself staring at this cow.  He looked at me with such trust, I couldn’t let him become a hamburger.  I brought him home, and he’s been here ever since.”

The cow approached the boys slowly.  Jon was a bit nervous, but Damian reached out and patted the cow’s nose.  Jon couldn’t help notice that the cow’s markings made it look like it was wearing a mask, much like Robins.

“Jon, this is Batcow.  Batcow, Farmboy.”

 

**A/N:  I like the idea of Damian having friends, and Super Sons is pretty much the only DC book I’m following right now.  This is the end of this story, but I have several more planned showing growing personal relationships between the kids.**

**Thanks for waiting through my long silent streak.  I’ve just been so busy lately that there has been very little time for much of anything.**

**I don’t know which one I’m going to write next, but I think I might try to write two at the same time.  I’m going to get back to Hero Hunt, and I’m also working on one that hasn’t made it onto the Timeline yet.  If anyone has taken a look at the Timeline lately, you will notice several names that don’t have posted stories yet.  They’ll all come eventually.  Thanks for being patient.**

**I’d love to see your comments.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


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